When The Daylight Finds You
by ineedtoleavethissite
Summary: Without rhyme or reason, Santana starts noticing the lunch lady's daughter everywhere she goes. {A Marley/Santana High School AU.}
1. Sophomore Year

**Dear readers,**

**This is less of a complete AU than it is a re-imagining of season one through three, exploring how Santana's journey could have been different if Marley had been some years older and part of the club from the beginning. Honestly, this is all just one heck of an excuse for me to write the Martana high school AU I've always wanted to, based on this photoset: fuckyeahgleelesbians/post/38905905415**

**This fic's plot will aim to follow the narrative of the show, but obviously Marley's presence and the absence of some later S4 characters would shift things around a bit – for example, no Kitty means no eating disorder developing for Marley, and so on. **

**It will consist of five chapters, each dealing with a full school year and the two summers in between. The story really only kicks off after 1x13, and the early parts deal mostly with Santana and adapting to life in glee and Cheerios, so expect a bit of a build-up before any substantial Martana action. And, as I'm not American, please forgive any inaccuracies that occur in terms of dealing with the school seasons – research can only take one so far.**

**Fair warning that as this deals with early S1 Santana, there's going to be a lot of gay panic with a hearty serving of self-loathing on the side, if that's in any way a sensitive issue as far as you are concerned. Also, some hetero sex, because Narnia exists.**

**As always, I hope you guys enjoy another mad journey into Martana-dom!**

**Love,**

**Me**

_**Additional notes:**_

– **Title and all chapter quotes will be from _Starry Eyed_ by Codes. There's a Paper Kites song here that Marley and Santana listen to, which in reality would have been some months before it was released in 2010, but. It's AU, so let's roll with it.**

– **Huge props to Lazarusgirl for asking me an important question that changed the entire body of the story for the better.**

– **Characters are from Glee, a show in which I have no stakes, obvs, otherwise I wouldn't be here, would I?**

* * *

**Sophomore Year**

_Did you find an explanatio__n _

_F__or the things you think you are?_

Santana Lopez can not fathom just how no one in this stupid little choir room hasn't yet died out of pure, simple exasperation.

Being in glee club is like one relentless fucking emotional roller-coaster. From one week to the next, it's drama after drama; a barrel full of overreacting divas getting in a tiffy every single second of the day.

Like, she knows it's show-choir, but Jesus Christ, can they just dampen the theatrics for one goddamn week, at least?

Whatever, Santana thinks. It's all just temporary, anyway, until Quinn's paranoia wears off and she lets her man off his leash for a bit.

Well, Santana reconsiders, that one might take a while.

(But, if she's being honest, there's this tiny part of her that has always liked singing and performing, and quite enjoys the way everyone just lets loose in glee, in contrast to the rigid drilling she receives at Cheerio practice.)

So, she just sucks it up, and holds on for the ride.

–

Last week, it was Goth Asian versus Manhands, next thing she knows, the travesty of Schuester's rapping skills comes to light, and then Santana herself is riding a high when they all get drugged by the school nurse and God, Santana constantly needs to pinch herself to make sure she's not living a vivid coma fantasy or something.

Instead of caring, she pulls Puck into the janitor's closet after glee, making sure that everyone sees the show she puts on in getting him there, or else, what's the point, really?

She 'broke up' with him, sure – not that 'they' were really anything except status-currency to begin with – but she quite liked being linked to the school's main stud, and isn't ready to let go of that so soon.

She gets all the popularity cred, gets off in the process, and she's still free to do whatever the fuck she wants, otherwise.

Everybody wins.

–

And what she wants to do, is this.

Fucking _this_.

"God, _yeah_," Santana exhales, finally being able to speak as her breathing evens out.

Her hands are still tangled in Brittany's hair as she feels slow, open-mouthed kisses being placed against her collarbone. Brittany hums into her skin and Santana feels a smile spread on her own face as her body melts into the mattress.

There's a peace that comes from this, from lying there as Brittany rolls off her and snuggles into her side, because Brittany is her best friend, and because of that, it's different.

There's something there, when they touch each other, that makes her explode in ways no member of the football team comes close to, and there's a part of Santana that likes this little secret, likes the fact that she can come so undone with the simplest of touches from Brittany's hands. All just because Brittany is her best friend.

Of course, all of this only counts behind doors, but, whatever. In the end, it's nothing big. It's just something that's _better_ with Brittany, somehow, when they go at it.

Because, well – because Brittany is her best friend.

–

Santana rolls her eyes when she steps into glee club the next day, as everyone is gathered around and speaking in hushed whispers.

God, here we go again – up, up, up with the drama-coaster.

They all look at her as she enters, going dead still, and she lifts her head up a bit higher, basking in the noticeable fear. Everyone stays shut up, bar this generation's Aretha.

(What, Santana isn't too self-involved like Berry to recognize when another voice is totally on point, and new-Aretha's definitely is.)

"Why didn't you do anything?" Aretha asks, putting her hand on her hip, and Santana's so fucking caught off guard that this glee clubber has to nerve to talk to her like that that she just stands shock-still for a few seconds.

"Excuse me?" is the best Santana can do as a saving grace.

"I can't believe you let your guard dogs take out one of our own!"

Santana lifts a hand up as a warning, because she's about to smack a bitch. "Explain," is all she says, in a careful voice – it tells Aretha to be cautious.

"Your Cheerios just _attacked_ her," Aretha continues, much less forceful now, and then the crowd parts to show a mousy girl who looks faintly familiar sitting there, soaked in slushy, hair hanging in her face.

"Who the fuck is that?" Santana asks, because she's not inferior enough to be dragged into this inconsequential drama, really.

"That's Marley!" Whiny Gay screeches, like it's somehow a crime for Santana not to know the chick's name. Which, fuck, Santana doesn't even know _hi__s_ name.

"I don't even know the kid, so why would I know anything about a slushy mission?" Santana says. "I'm not even the fucking captain, get on Fabray's case, if you wanna risk it," Santana huffs, because well, they're all looking at her like... Fuck, she doesn't _care_ what they think, but it's fucking irritating and they need to get off her case. "It was probably just a random thing, don't label it as an 'attack', you queens."

She sits down and plans on ignoring them until Mr Shue comes and distracts them – never thought she'd get that desperate – but they don't ease up.

"It wasn't random, it was because of her mom."

Santana just sighs. She's not interested, and why the fuck are they still talking to her? She levels them with a raised eyebrow, silently telling them to shut the fuck up, but for some reason, Aretha interprets it as a request for elaboration.

"Her mom is the new lunch lady, you know, the..." Aretha glances back at the girl, who Santana sees is still staring blankly at the ground, and Santana knows what Aretha means. She's heard the jokes. "Anyway, so, they targeted Marley by extension."

"And I care, because?"

The look they all give her is so fucking awful and Santana is about five seconds away from yelling if not for the fact that their teacher chooses that moment to walk into the choir. Wow, real fucking help, dude.

She bristles for the entire period, ignoring the looks thrown at her from Freaks and Geeks 2.0, and is so worn down from her anger by the end of the period that, on the way out, she just softly and quickly tells Aretha, "I'll get Quinn to sort it," before stalking away from her own fucking sudden insanity.

(It's not the fact that they just spent the whole hour singing pretty fucking catchy medleys to this chick about being part of a group and standing up for _their own_, or some shit.

It's not.)

"Good," Santana hears Aretha say behind her as she's walking away. She just barely hears the rest. "'Cause we're a family in here, and it doesn't help if you lot don't look out for each other."

Now they're being over-emotional, _and_ sentimental.

Santana does not like the direction this group is suddenly taking.

–

Things get worse.

Fucking _Quinn_.

"Are you dead between the ears, Fabray?" Santana shouts, slamming her locker shut, and every single Cheerio leaves the locker room immediately, dressed or not.

When only she, Brittany and Quinn remain, she notices that Quinn is more distraught than Santana's ever seen her.

It doesn't make Santana feel any sense of remorse.

Really.

In fact, it's fucking _excellent_ she's so torn up.

Sue just dropped the baby bomb on them in glee, and Quinn got the fuck out of there and hid in the only place she knew only her two best friends could come find her. But once again, Santana isn't in any way touched or calmed down by Quinn obvious cry for her specific support.

(God, if she'd only thought of coming to them _sooner_.)

"Not even getting yourself knocked up, but by some fucking mongrel who can't even feed himself, let alone look after your fucking illegitimate _spawn_?!"

Santana knows that was uncalled for, knows by mere fact that Quinn actually _shows_ that the comment hurt her. She feels bad instantly, but fuck if she's going to let it show, and so stands by her decision of handling this like she would any other situation – like an utter bitch – and crosses her arms, levelling Quinn with a hard stare.

Quinn. Quinn, whose eyes are now icy, and Santana suddenly remembers who she's facing off with here.

She braces herself.

"It's not like we all have deep-set homosexual urges to keep us from getting pregnant, Santana."

Santana's blood runs cold.

"You fucking–"

Brittany just about pulls her away in time, otherwise Fabray would have lost an eye to Santana's claws.

"You're a fucking _idiot_," is the last thing Santana shouts into the room as Brittany pulls her out of it.

She doesn't hear the answer clearly, but Santana thinks Quinn just sighed out, "I know."

–

They sing to Quinn like it'll make a fucking difference, like the fetus will magically disappear and Quinn will lead a perfectly happy, unscathed, bastard-less life.

Like the power of song is some special antidote to every problem in the world, like the choir room is where _friendship_ and everything Barney the fucking Dinosaur preaches about are the most important things in life, like glee is some haven where bad things never happen, some clan that's the solution to all their teenage problems.

But it's _not_. They're a little fucking club that fucks around with Avril's songs to fit thirteen voices and at the end of the day, that's it, there's not much more, and fuck their mission to pretend that together, they can fucking change the world, or some shit.

Santana's not having any of it.

–

It's fun, seeing how shocked Quinn and Finn are that they're the ones being slushied for a change.

All it took was Santana batting her eyebrows at the hockey team, and one small comment for them to get all riled up.

She didn't even have to make out with anyone to get her way.

Score.

–

"I really think we should be working on glee," Brittany says, but she doesn't look at all serious when Santana's tweaking her nipple, then, and Santana smirks.

"I really think you should shut up," Santana says lightly, and moves to suck on Brittany's neck.

They got teamed up to perform a _ballad_ – honestly, what the fuck – and even though they've decided on an easy Destiny's Child number that matches their voices perfectly and will show everyone that they're the hottest bitches alive, Brittany insists on practicing it anyway, because she cares way more about glee than Santana ever will.

It doesn't matter though, 'cause Shuester only really gives them these assignments to hear what his vanilla frontrunners can do with it, and then magically ends the lesson before hearing what anyone else has got. She's not wasting her energy in vain, not when her energy can be spent on _this_ instead, on slipping her hand in Brittany's spanks and pushing two fingers inside her easily.

Brittany arches, but she's also very stiff, and Santana realizes why when she frowns and says, "That was mean."

Santana rolls her eyes, because whatever, that's how she rolls.

"Sorry," she says, words coated with mirth. "Can you fuck me, please, Brittany? Pretty please, oh will you?"

Brittany purses her mouth, but Santana can see a hint of a smile there, and then they're both grinning and Brittany leans forward to kiss her and, caught off guard, Santana only allows it to last for about a second before pulling away and leaning down to kiss Brittany's neck again, hiding her face instead. They start building up a rhythm as Santana drives her hips into Brittany's, and Santana loses herself in the feeling easily.

She's not gonna, like, _kiss_ her best friend while they do this, too.

That's just a bit too gay for her taste.

–

Quinn has been one of the two solid figures in her life for a long time. She hates the bitch, but there's also a certain fondness there.

But, Quinn got herself into this mess, and well, if the space is open for Santana to swoop in and steal the reign of the school from right under her nose...

She's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

So, she fucks with Puck even more, and just about _delights_ in how much it pisses Quinn off, who has taken a stupid fucking interest in the mohawk all of a sudden.

But to be honest, Santana would, too, if the only other option she had was playing house with Hudson for the rest of her life.

"Look at this," Santana tells Brittany, one night when they're lounging around during a sleepover, reading magazines with some television show playing in the background.

She shows Brittany her phone, Puck's stupid _wht r u werin'_ texts littering her inbox, and though she's told him how wet she is for him, his words only bring wetness to her eyes – seriously, tears of pure fucking laughter.

"He's useless," Santana murmurs, and then, after taking in the words, Brittany sidles up behind her and starts placing light kisses against her neck.

"Is that true?" Brittany asks, husking into Santana's ear.

"What?" Santana says, getting with the programme immediately as she throws her phone to the side and lets Brittany take her top off.

"That you're soaking?" Brittany says, and it's so rare to hear things like that from Brittany's mouth that Santana almost gasps at the sound of it.

"No," Santana says, spinning around to help Brittany shimmy out of her sweatpants. "But I'm getting there."

–

The fun ends when she learns that Puck's the baby daddy.

This is what Santana's life looks like at the moment: she's moments away from being captain of the goddamn Cheerios, McKinley's new reigning queen, hottest bitch on the planet – thought that title is shared with her best friend, obviously – and she's even able to get away with being in glee club to boot.

People fear her, people want her, people want to _be_ her...

It's everything she's ever wanted.

And yet, it's all at the expense of the fucking blonde bitch sitting on that fucking bench alone, looking like some truck driver ran over her favourite Jesus portrait.

Santana sighs and sits down next to her.

"I heard you say you want to be alone–"

"And I meant it," Quinn interjects, but Santana pushes on.

"–but I just wanted to say that, well..." Santana rolls her eyes at herself, because she so does not do apologies. "You were a dick, I was a dick, okay? Can we be cool now?"

Quinn says nothing, and Santana brings a hand up and rubs at her temple, because that didn't work as well as she thought, but oh well, it's out there now, she's done her part. That's all Fabray will ever get out of her.

After a while, Quinn's quiet voice drifts between them. "I'm sorry, too."

Santana stands up. She's never been good at this type of shit, but there's a massive sense of relief that things between them are better now.

"We can't help you with extra large granny panties for when the time comes," Santana says, "but we can make sure your baby shower rocks like a fucking bachelorette party."

Before she walks away, she adds, for good measure, "We're still your best friends, okay? Just... Don't forget that."

She leaves fast so she doesn't have to face the aftermath of her own frankness, or hear Quinn's reply, and lets out a deep breath after escaping into another hallway.

And then, everything is marginally better.

–

Except when it's not.

Since knowing her in kindergarten, Santana has never once had an ill thought toward her best friend.

But God, when Brittany makes that fucking _stupid_ – and shit, she won't even _hesitate_ to use that word right now – comment about them having sex, Santana almost slaps her on pure instinct.

She doesn't, though, and barely keeps her composure long enough to finish the conference call before dragging Brittany to an empty laboratory room and shutting the door violently behind them.

"The _hell_, Brittany?" Santana's tone is vicious as she rounds on Brittany, and Brittany balks under her glare. Santana knows why; she's never spoken to Brittany like this, ever, but she can't care with the shitstorm Brittany's just unleashed, and _God_.

"What–" Brittany starts, and Santana cuts in immediately with, "Don't even try that with me, Britt, you know I _know_ you."

Santana sighs and sinks against a lab table, bringing a hand up and rubbing her eyes.

"That stuff is _private_, for the millionth time, _why_ would you..." Santana trails off, and then realizes she's losing more than just her temper here.

God, she doesn't want to cry right now, but there's this hopelessness that suddenly overtakes her, like everything she's built is going to be swept from right beneath her, and...

It's easier, to resort to anger instead of letting that feeling take hold of her.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?!" Santana shouts again, torn between her own raging thoughts and the helpless look on Brittany's face.

Brittany's small voice cuts her, deeply, when she says, "I'm sorry," and it's so simple and saddened that all Santana can do is stare at the floor, completely at a loss.

Then there's a hand on her arm, and then two, and then Brittany's pulling her into a warm hug that she can't help but sink into, because this is the person in the world closest to her, and fuck that was not a cool move, but what else is she going to do?

She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.

Later, she finds Matt and lets him fuck her in the boys' bathroom.

When she unlocks the door and smirks at the line of jocks outside – of _witnesses_ outside – they look at her like she's everything they've ever wanted, and she knows it won't take long for this news to travel to all the glee freaks who was on the phone with her this morning, wiping any misconstrued thoughts of her out of their minds.

And then everything feels a little better than before.

–

But of course, as she's found, the positive feelings don't last for long, these days.

Santana can't believe she just admitted to the entire club that she _likes_ being in this loser convention, but it just slipped out, and whatever.

So, she likes glee.

Whatever.

It's just a place where everyone can let go, where she's not caught in catty high school politics, and she doesn't have to put a mask on, and no one cares when she acts like a dork. And some part of her knows, no matter how bitchy she's been to them, that they'd all have her back if she needs it – just look at what they did with Quinn. And that's a fucking rare thing to have.

So again: whatever.

It would just be a shame for it all to end because they were fucked over by the other teams. They could totally still have made it without the massive Mr Lumps, they're still a full, functioning team either way, but those fucking criminals and deaf kids really pulled a number on them. The criminals, she gets, but damn, who knew the others had that shit in them?

When Hudson does show up with a back-up, though, Santana feels – though she will deny it later – a small trickle of relief.

Everything is fast after that – they make last minute moves and thanks to countless Cheerio improvisations, she and Brittany rocks it in just a few minutes – and then suddenly they're on that stage, not having a lot of fucking precision but having shitloads of fun instead, and somehow that's enough.

It's strange, how Santana throws herself into it. She can't even quite believe it herself, but for some reason she starts _believing_ in something, and if she's quite honest with herself...

Well, it feels pretty fucking great.

She never thought she'd fall in love with a fucking _club_, but here she is.

–

She barely has time to eye-roll at the fact that she's also been dragged into their special delusion before she's on stage looking at that trophy, and everything else becomes obsolete.

–

Santana celebrates later by almost fucking Brittany through her mattress, smirking to herself when she lifts her head just high enough to see Brittany biting down on her hand to keep from making a noise.

The nails of Brittany's other hand are digging deep lines into her back, and Santana just smiles, because this may be the best it's ever fucking been.

She bends down and takes Brittany's nipple in her mouth and Brittany squeals as Santana bites down.

It happens so suddenly that Santana doesn't even know how it does.

But before she can wrap her mind around her actions, she finds herself pressing hot open kisses just below Brittany's belly button, and how did she even get here?

She's never really wandered from her little space in the crook of Brittany's neck.

Except now, _here_, she can actually fucking _smell_ Brittany, from where her hand is still working Brittany up, and...

_Shit._

God.

Brittany...

Santana _wants_ it.

She knows she does.

And then she kind of stills her hands and just freezes in place. She hears heavy breathing from above her and hesitantly looks up to find Brittany staring right back up at her.

The questioning frown is so obviously written across Brittany's face.

There's this moment where it's like a face-off, not between Brittany and herself, per se, but more between her own desires and rational mind, telling her that _no, no, no, that means something else_ and _yes, oh God, maybe it would be so good_.

In her peripheral vision, she sees the red of her Cheerio jacket hanging off Brittany's desk chair, and–

She shakes her head, shakes herself out of it, and then just lifts herself up and crawls back up Brittany's body and focuses on moving her fingers again.

She only breathes once her head is safely tucked in her safe space against Brittany's neck again, the place from where she doesn't have to see or face anything.

Especially herself.

–

The best thing about winter break is that Santana doesn't have to worry so much.

Sure, she projects her natural leader-bitch aura wherever she goes, no matter what, but sometimes it gets exhausting ruling the whole of McKinley High.

It's like her own personal holiday, she thinks, cuddling up to Brittany in front of the fire.

They have tried some new spiked hot chocolate recipes and are spending an uncharacteristically quiet night in – like Santana says, she's off duty – watching and laughing at terrible holiday films and getting comfortably tipsy at that.

Except for Quinn, of course, who of course can't drink with the parasite in her uterus, and like, shit.

It's a bit surreal to Santana, at times, thinking about it, that that's a thing that's actually happening now.

Like, her friend is _pregnant_.

Pregnant.

Santana won't understand why Quinn didn't... Well, there were easier ways to deal with it, at the start, but hey, Santana respects Quinn's choices, or whatever.

That doesn't mean she can't think they're fucking stupid, though.

"Do you think now that you're a mom you magically got some powers to make us a turkey like that?" Santana asks, hungry all of a sudden, the Thanksgiving scene on screen making her mouth water.

Quinn's mouth does that thing where it just _purses_ out displeasure, and Santana shrugs, because she's just keeping it real, duh.

After a second, Quinn just shrugs and says, "Maybe in the second trimester," before wrapping her hands around her warm cup and looking back at the television.

And well, Quinn's finally getting her sense of humour back through all the baby hormones, so that helps in the grander scheme of things that seem to be slowly returning back to normal, imminent baby-popping aside.

Brittany, in all her infinite wisdom, chooses that moment to randomly interject, "I miss being a foetus." She contemplates for a second. "But I'd settle for going back to elementary."

Quinn and Santana don't ask, because they get it, in the way that no one else can – but the crafts and sleepovers and simple hot chocolate without something in it to take the edge off; all of that instead of hierarchy and pregnancy and pressure?

Sometimes Santana misses it, too.

She doesn't say any of it aloud.

–

"She won't be able to stand you're dating him. Humiliated, shamed, she'll have no choice but to leave the group. And without her, Shuester won't make it to regionals."

Sue's back, and more ruthless than ever, and Santana can admit that she feels the slight tingle of fear creeping up her spine.

But along with that is the slight rush she feels at being the one to receive orders directly, being the one Sue confides in, not just taking orders like a lieutenant anymore.

Sue says she wants a new head cheerleader? Well, Santana knows it's time to step up, now, if she wants to secure her place at the top forever.

"Want us to turn Hudson against the club, too, while we're at it?" Santana dares speak up, because now that the whole team is hers for the taking, she wants to show Sue some initiative. Sue does appreciate a devious streak, after all.

"Not you, chica," Sue sneers. "I've got another job for you. But I like where your head's at."

Sue levels her with a rare impressed smirk, the one that tells Santana she just showed the right amount of tenacity, and Santana revels in it.

"My team feels awfully empty now that Fabray is up the duff," Sue says. "I want me some new recruits – not just any recruits, but I could do with more double-teamers. Even without Rachel Berry, I don't want Shuester to have any back-ups to fall on."

Santana sees Brittany looking at her from the corner of her eye, and Santana just shrugs, because they always need to wait for Sue to get through her tirades before she gets to the point.

"That little Breakfast Club is comprised of lazies and fatties and breakable Broadway queens – but there is one that fits the Cheerio mould, at least, and you, Lopez, will do the rest of the work in getting her into shape, getting her to see the true evil of Shuester's hair, and getting her _loyalty_," Sue says, taking a seat behind her desk and waving a hand at the door. "Now move."

Sue looks at them seriously, silently warning them against failing, and Santana gulps, picturing Quinn in street clothes, ostracised at the bottom.

"Pierce, bag Hudson. And Lopez," Sue concludes, eyes stony. "Get me the lunch lady's daughter."

–

"Which one is the lunch spawn again?" Santana whispers to Brittany, looking at the club from the back row.

No one here can ever be fucking Cheerio material, but okay, if that's what Sue wants, Santana's determined to get it to her.

God, Santana hopes it's not the Goth. (She knows the lunch lady's white, but adoption is totally – and unfortunately for Santana – an option here.)

"She's not here yet," Brittany says. "And you've met her thousand's of times, her name is Marley, who Mercedes told you about being slushied that one time? That sang a duet with Rachel for the mallard class?"

Oh right, Santana thinks. She thought she was just out of it that day and seeing double of Shuester's aforementioned vanilla-fest. Also, she was completely bored and having an incredibly vivid daydream of great sex with Brittany the day before.

"_Ballad_, Britt," is all Santana says in reply.

The Marley girl doesn't turn up for class that day, but does the following, just in time to hear Manhands belt out a surprisingly fun cover of an All American Rejects song, which Santana dances to without prompting. What the hell, Santana thinks to herself, it's not Barbra Streisand and no-one's crying, so Santana might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

What she's not enjoying is the midget glaring daggers at her best friend, though, after Brittany asked Finn out the day before and is sitting next to him in glee today.

But she has bigger fish to fry right now and will deal with that diva later.

"I'm gonna go make a date with Finn, so," Brittany says, "you should go ask Marley out now, too."

"Britt!" Santana groans, cause that's not funny, and there are people around. "Don't say it like–"

But Brittany's gone, and Santana just huffs as she grabs her bag and trails after Lunch Lady Jnr.

"Hey," Santana says, getting the girl by her locker, putting on her smoothest, most innocent voice at the greeting.

The girl looks startled at being addressed by Santana, and Santana smirks. It really is too easy. Everyone dies for popularity, and most people would give their left tit to even be _seen_ talking to her, so really.

This chick should be _thankful_ for Santana for handing her this on a silver platter.

"Hey?" comes the reply, all frowny and half-smiley.

"I was thinking we don't really know each other well," Santana continues, still the purest of silk, "and us glee girls got to stick together, you know?"

No reaction, but Santana continues, unperturbed. She understands it's overwhelming for some people to be acknowledged by her.

"Wanna come sit with us Cheerios at lunch?" Santana concludes. "I have an interesting proposition for you."

"Oh," says the girl, and Santana just smiles and waits, leaning against the locker. "That's so nice, Santana, really, but I kind of promised Tina I'd help her plan her birthday party at lunch today."

And then she closes her locker and starts turning away, smiling at Santana over her shoulder as she does.

"Thanks, though!" is all Santana gets, followed by a, "Have a nice lunch!"

And then Santana is being brushed off in favour of time spent with other glee losers.

–

What the actual _fuck_.

–

"And then he dropped me off and I made him some hot chocolate," Brittany concludes her retelling of her date with Finn the previous night. "Before he went home he said it was the best he'd ever had."

"The drink or the sex?" Santana smirks.

She and Brittany are sitting in the choir room waiting for glee to start, opting for being early for once so they can catch up since they haven't seen each other all day.

"There wasn't any," Brittany says, and for some reason Santana can't fathom, Brittany seems _happy_ about it. "We didn't even kiss. We talked about Baywatch most of the night, and how that along with X-Files will make 90s television unrivalled by any other era in history or that is yet to come. We also tried to imagine how a crossover between the two would ever work, and whether or not we could throw the Huxtables in there too. And then that just lead to us sharing some of our greatest government conspiracy theories, mostly involving Fonzi." Brittany takes a breath. "I only got in at like, one in the morning. Time just flew by."

"Wild night," Santana says casually, but for some reason the whole set-up makes her slightly unsettled. She's suitably distracted from this when the other person causing distress in her life casually strolls into the classroom without a care in the world for the way she just shot Santana down yesterday.

Chick even has the nerve to throw a kind smile over to Santana as an acknowledgement of the entire disastrous affair, and really. What is _with_ this girl?

Brittany must have said something and Santana was distracted, given by the sharp pain she suddenly feels in her ribs from where Brittany elbowed her.

She looks over to where Brittany is looking at her blankly, expecting a reaction, and Santana just shrugs, not really minding that she missed anything.

With Santana's lack of response, Brittany asks, "What's wrong?"

Santana sighs. "Would you blow off having lunch with me just to plan a stupid fucking birthday party?"

"Depends," Brittany says, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Will their be a piñata?"

"But like, really?" Santana presses on, finding that she actually needs the reaffirmation.

"Of course not, silly," is all Brittany says, before jumping up to greet Finn as he enters the choir room, adding, "you're too awesome, duh," over her shoulder.

Good, Santana thinks. Yeah, she's awesome, and this Marley chick should damn well know it.

She sits brooding the entire glee period, plotting and scheming while watching Marley sit calmly and every so often leaning over to chat with Goth and Aretha. By the time glee's over, she realizes her original approach yesterday was far too innocent and left her way too vulnerable for her own health.

Fuck sugar and honey for fly catching, Santana thinks.

There are always better ways.

–

It probably would have been more satisfying if Marley would have been so kind as to at least _look_ shocked by being slushied. Santana guesses the glee nerds have grown accustomed to it, however.

Sigh. There is some satisfaction to be had, though, in the surprise on Marley's face when Santana walks past her moments after, and says, menacingly, "If you want to stop that from happening, meet me in the choir room after school."

–

Sue pulls them out of last period. Santana loves the privileges that come with being hot and athletic.

"Where are you on Hudson and Rose?" she inquisitions, while Santana feels her abs burning.

Honestly, do they _have_ to be on these balls for Sue to talk to them? It's not like they – the ever-willing lapdogs – need to be punished for anything, Jesus.

"I'm going over to Finn's house later," Brittany says. "He wants to teach me how to play Halo, but I can already do that so I'm psyched to vaporize him."

Santana throws Brittany a look out of the corner of her eye – why is this the first she's heard of it?

"I hope that's teenage talk for seduction, so help me," Sue mutters, and then looks at Santana expectantly.

"Working on it," Santana grits out, her failure along with Brittany's surprise letting that unsettled feeling creeping back in – the one that makes her feel like things are changing too much and too suddenly at that.

Sue looks at her, almost with disappointment, and Santana would curse under her breath if she didn't feel so scrutinized.

Sue sighs, as if one day after giving them commands the glee club should have been dissolved already. She waves a hand and goes back to scheming, or whatever it is she does in the hours spent in her office.

"Off you go."

–

"Another date with Finn?" Santana asks, crossing her arms and looking at Brittany with disdain, making her upset over her exclusion clear.

"Yeah!" Brittany says brightly. She catches the look on Santana's face, which, as always, she reads with ease. "I was about to tell you, it just happened after glee and you know how Mr Cross gets when we make chat-notes in class."

"Whatever," Santana says as she sits down next to Brittany in the auditorium while they wait for school to let out.

"I can come by yours after and we can watch a movie, though, if you wanted?"

Santana just shrugs, because she's still too riled up to show how appreciative she is of Brittany always knowing the right thing to say.

The bell rings a few minutes later and Brittany smiles before kissing Santana's cheek, the runs off to meet Finn.

Santana just sighs as she picks up her bag and makes her way over to the choir room.

–

Marley bristles when Santana finally enters the choir room and Santana smirks. She knows a little girl like that won't ever risk saying something to voice that displeasure toward Santana, anyway.

"So," Santana says, sitting down and planting a bored expression on her face. "Here's the–"

"You didn't have to do that to me," Marley says, suddenly and softly, and Santana balks, because wow, how can one person look so forlorn?

Santana shakes it off. "Here's the deal, we're–"

"Why did you?" Marley presses on, and it takes everything in Santana not to lunge.

Instead, she takes a deep breath, picturing Sue unleashing all hell.

"Because I can do what I want," Santana says, shrugging and taking out a nail file. She's tired of looking into that sad sack of a face now. "Now, there's an opening on the Cheerios and we wanted you to fill it."

She expects to see the expression on Marley's face to be transformed into one of pure joy when she glances up, but there's only confusion to be found.

"Uh," Marley starts, and Santana scoffs.

Is she completely daft? This is the opportunity of a lifetime. It doesn't take a genius to simply scream in elation before zipping up the suit.

"So you had them slushy me?" Marley asks, and Santana sighs.

"Listen, you in or not? It's the _Cheerios_, come on," Santana says, standing up, grabbing her bag and heading for the exit. "Let's just wrap this up, and you show up at practice Monday."

Marley just says, "Uh," again before Santana pauses at the door.

"I'll leave a uniform out in the locker room. Feel free to make yourself at home."

Santana throws her one last smirk before making her way home.

Making dreams come true, becoming head bitch of this whole joint; just basically getting shit done...

It's been a good day.

–

Brittany comes around just after dinner and jumps on the bed next to Santana, who's finishing up math homework.

(Actually liking math – another taboo, but what McKinley doesn't know won't hurt it.

Or hurt _her_.)

"How was your date?" Santana asks casually, and Brittany snuggles into her, pressing her face into Santana's shoulder.

When she speaks, it's muffled, but Santana can make it out. "I'm sad."

Santana freezes on instinct. "Did that little bitch do something to you? I'll–"

"No," Brittany exhales, squeezing Santana's bicep and calming her instantly. "Do I look ugly today?"

"_What?_" Santana says, thrown. "No, Britt, you're never ugly. Did he say that?"

"He didn't want to have sex with me," Brittany says, and well, Santana doesn't think _anyone_ should sound that sad after getting out of having to have sex with Hudson.

"Oh," Santana says, wondering if her voice at least _sounds_ sad for Brittany's part.

"He said he didn't want to, because he still has feelings for Rachel," Brittany explains. "So I said, duh, that's how you get over Rachel, of course. And he said he didn't want his first time to be cause he's angry at Rachel for still dating that Vocal Adrenaline guy."

Santana perks up. "Rachel's still on that dude?"

Brittany shrugs, still depressed, and turns on her back to stare at the ceiling. She's indifferent to the cogs turning in Santana's brain – she's gonna impress Sue so bad, it's insane.

Hello, captainship.

In the meantime, though, Santana's joy dampens a bit at seeing her best friend so beat up about this. Santana throws her pen down, looking at Brittany quizzically, even though she knows Brittany can't see her.

"Do you really want to sleep with him so badly?"

Brittany shrugs. "No one's ever said no to me before."

Santana thinks back to skipped lunch offers and thinks she gets what Brittany means. She rolls over so she lies atop Brittany and pushes some hair away from Brittany's eyes. Brittany smiles at her, tenderly, and Santana smirks back.

"Let me make you feel better, Britt-Britt."

And then Santana does.

–

Santana is elated when she can deliver in Sue's office the next morning.

"Rose will be at practice bright and early next week," Santana report, actually having to fight back a smile. "And Rachel's still dating the Vocal Adrenaline guy, so..."

Sue looks at her, eyes blazing, and Santana knows it.

She's in.

–

Being the actual, _official_ head cheerleader comes with so much power, Santana can actually feel it radiating off her fingertips.

The footballers get even more competitive for a chance in bed with her, since the hockey and soccer teams immediately switch their attention from Fabray over to her, too. And they're all not only looking at her like the easy left-hand girl anymore, but someone they actually need to impress now. And the Cheerios drape themselves over her, hanging off every word from her lips, like her own personal little army.

It's everything she always knew she needed.

But Santana barely has time to bask in it before disaster strikes.

"She's late," Sue sneers at Santana on Monday morning, and Santana tries not to cower, but fails.

"I'll make her do extra laps, coach," Santana tries to save face. "Being a rookie is no excuse, and I'll make her know it."

It's a weak compromise, and an even lamer attempt at trying to sound like she knows what she's doing, and Santana tastes her own incompetency on her tongue.

"If she shows up," Sue says dryly.

"She will," Santana assures.

But Marley doesn't make it.

Sue _bristles_.

It's not even half of the anger Santana feels, though.

–

Santana doesn't even bother with the slushies this time. Sometimes, even captains need to take matters into their own hands.

She decides on the choir room, cause shit's about to get loud, so it's only fitting. She grabs Marley by her scarf as she passes by and tugs her inside.

Marley splutters something as she near chokes on her scarf, but Santana pays no mind.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Santana snarls.

"Me?" Marley says, hand rubbing her neck. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Santana can't even process the fact that Marley's talking to her like she's a regular person at this school when she's at this level of goddamn angry.

"Where. Were. You?" Santana grits out every word, barely containing the urge to strangle the girl in front of her.

Marley crosses her arms. "There's something seriously wrong with you, you know that?"

Santana has _had_ it. She steps forward, pushing a hand against Marley's shoulder; seriously, it's Lima Heights time.

"Listen, Santana," Marley sighs out, so defeated that it actually makes Santana stop the rant she was about to launch in.

It's said so calmly that, like, is there something wrong with her eyes that she's just oblivious to Santana's imminent rage?

"You really think I'd join a team who slushies me and tries to manipulate me into joining them?" Marley says, but it's so sincere and rational, like she's just honestly trying to explain her point of view to Santana, that it actually has some kind of calming effect on Santana.

Or well, so Santana thinks. She honestly doesn't understand why her limbs have just stopped working. She stares at Marley for a second, only now realizing that she's still all up in Marley's space. She's momentarily distracted an old chicken pox scar she suddenly notices next to Marley's eyebrow for the first time, which does absolutely nothing to detract from Marley's looks, then shakes her head, backing away.

And now, well, now Santana finds herself without an angle of attack for the first time in her entire life.

"Why do you even want me to join, anyway?" Marley says, when it becomes apparent that Santana isn't going to say anything.

Santana shrugs. She doesn't do rationalization, like this girl obviously does. That leads to _bonding_, and, well, ew.

"Fabray's out," she says, trying to make this as succinct as she can. "We need new life in the team, and I'd rather have another glee kid I can trust in there than some random desperate. And you're, well, you know."

Santana vaguely gestures to Marley's body to get her point across, and Marley just frowns but whatever, Santana's exhausted from this conversation already, and that's about as much as Marley's going to get from her.

"You could have just asked me nicely, you know," Marley says, almost conversationally.

Santana wants to say, _I tried but you blew me off_, but she bites her lip instead.

"And fake-nice lunch offers don't count, either," Marley says, and what the fuck?

Marley looks at Santana questioningly, and God, Santana's just never felt this dismantled before. With Quinn, face-offs are icy and equally matched; with Brittany, a simple look counts as a conversation; with everyone else, Santana just glares and they balk. This is... Santana doesn't even know what this is, or why she's allowing it.

Is she honestly being... _admonished_ right now?

"Whatever," Santana says, because that's the best she can do.

"Let me think about it," Marley says, and then just turns to leave.

Santana feels windswept by it all.

Before Marley leaves, though, she says softly and, once again, ultra sincerely, "Maybe you should work on your temper, Santana," and Jesus Christ.

Santana counts to ten.

_You need her. Sue needs her. You can't __stab__ her. Sue needs her. Don't kill her._

She keeps chanting under her breath all the way to history, but it doesn't soothe the itch under her skin at all.

–

Santana spends the whole week thinking up a game plan. She studies Marley closely, looking for any cracks in her game.

Meanwhile, the club reprimands Rachel on the Vocal Adrenaline boy, and she at least has some news for Sue on creating friction in the club. Brittany seems to have gotten over Finn's rejection, and more often than Santana likes, she finds Finn randomly hanging around the two of them. He and Brittany talk about the most inane things and Santana doesn't have a fucking clue what they're on about, but they seem to follow each other just fine, so whatever. As long as he doesn't fuck Brittany up again, Santana's cool.

A solution only comes to her when she accidentally runs into Marley in the girls bathroom. Well, kind of. She might have been following her all the way from math class, but no one can prove that, so.

Marley applies some lipgloss to her lips, and Santana doesn't know the brand, which is odd, but that also means...

Of course.

Santana gives her a once over; finally notices the nameless clothes, ugh, those _shoes_ – she guesses being a cafeteria worker isn't the most profitable of careers. Why didn't she think of it before?

She sees Marley looking at her out of the corner of her eye as she goes to stand next to her, pulling out her eyeliner as an excuse to hover by the mirror.

"Hi, Santana," Marley says kindly, and Santana just nods in reply. She's still not here to make friends.

"You know," Santana drawls, "the Cheerios are nationally ranked and have won nationals almost seven times in row. Do you know how good that looks on a CV?"

Marley smiles at her good-naturedly, seeing through her immediately. "I told you I'd think about it, Santana," she says, strangely playful, and Santana will never understand this chick, she's sure of it.

She may see through Santana, but Santana knows she's not looking deep enough. Santana smiles, ready to strike.

"Just saying. Colleges line up for us. It's basically a guaranteed full-ride, right there."

Marley's hands slips at the words _full-ride_, and Santana grins all the way to lunch.

Check mate.

–

She can't help but pat herself on the back when Marley steps up to her in the locker room the following week.

She almost laughs when she sees Marley tug at the ends of her skirt, trying and failing to cover up her legs and arms. She looks like one of those inflatable dancing air dolls, body bending oddly while her hands twist to hide herself, and well.

It's not wholly irritating, Santana thinks. Somewhat amusing, even.

"This is so revealing," Marley tells her.

Santana chuckles. "It's fine. You just need to fix your hair."

"I forgot a hairband," Marley says. "Do we really need that high pony? It looks so tight."

"It's supposed to be tight," Santana says, opening her locker and retrieving a band. "Trust me, when you're sweating like a pig in practice, or twisting around in the air, the last thing you want is your hair all up in your grill."

"Can you help me?" Marley asks demurely, holding the band out to Santana.

Santana sighs, but Sue's counting on her, so.

"Turn around," Santana says, reaching up to grab Marley's hair, but– "Sit down, giant."

Marley takes a seat on the wooden slab in front of her and Santana bunches her hair together, smoothing it out as she goes.

"I'm nervous," Marley admits, and Santana says nothing, 'cause last time she checked it wasn't feelings o'clock.

When they're done and they're walking to the field together, Marley says, "What if I can't do anything right?"

Santana sighs, already praying for the training wheels to come off. Sue's counting on her, after all.

"Just follow my lead, okay?"

Marley nods, trembling. Santana just shakes her head and leads Marley out into the crossfire.

–

Marley doesn't _suck_, but...

"Lopez," Sue pulls her aside after practice. "I'm putting it on you to fix that. Get her on form as soon as you can. If you need to whip her all day, so be it."

Santana lets out a long breath. Lucky for her, she's ambitious as fuck, and her captain badge can basically motivate her to do anything in the world.

"Yes, coach."

–

"I asked Finn to be my boyfriend," Brittany says, one afternoon while they're watching Sweet Valley High.

Well, to be specific, Sweet Valley is playing in the background, but Santana's reaching up and undoing the buttons on Brittany's shirt. She stops midway.

"Why?"

"Sue told us to get a younger man," Brittany says simply.

"_Get_, yes. Fuck, not date," Santana says. "You don't actually need to _date_ the yeti, you know."

"I dunno," Brittany shrugs, pressing up on her elbows to make a space between them, looking down at Santana, pensive. "He's fun. And he likes kissing me, but not just for sex."

One part of Santana is genuinely confused as to why Brittany would even want a boyfriend if not for her image – like, what other purpose to they serve, anyway? – and the other part already dreads how Quinn's going to react to this.

"Brittany, you can't just... That's Quinn old boyfriend, you know that."

Brittany shrugs again. "I just like him. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, whatever," Santana says, going back to unbuttoning Brittany's top.

She's not about to be left dry due to talking about Hudson.

Or well, so she thought, but now Brittany's taking her hand away from her clothes, and what?

"San," Brittany asks, that curious frown taking over her face, "If Finn's my boyfriend, isn't this cheating?"

"What?" Santana breathes. "No. No, of course not. It's – we're just practicing, remember? It doesn't count."

Brittany still looks confused, and so Santana drills her point home, "We're girls. It doesn't count, Brittany. When you finally take Hudson's _v_, it'll be great 'cause of practice, yeah?"

Brittany nods, and then lets Santana's hands back on her top. A minute passes, and then Brittany leans down and kisses down Santana's neck, and then it's all downhill from there, really.

–

"Brittany told you," Santana gathers from the look on Quinn's face the next day.

"Yeah," Quinn says, more confused than angry, so that's alright. But the confusion morphs into something akin to happiness, which leaves Santana to be the confused one. "It's a bit of a surprise, but, it makes sense, in a way," Quinn carries on, "You know, I think they could maybe work together."

Santana scoffs. "It's not going to last, you know that, right?"

Quinn's eyebrow arches in a spectacular way. "Says Santana the best friend, or Santana the lover?"

"Jesus, Fabray, keep your voice down, will you? And don't use that word, it's so fucking tacky," Santana hisses, and then immediately switches to attack mode. "You'd think your pregnant ass would be more upset after being switched for a thinner model."

Quinn doesn't even look a little bit offended, and Santana crosses her arms, out of ammo.

"Things are changing," Quinn says, being a cryptic little bitch like she tends to, and Santana frowns.

She watches Quinn smile bashfully as she walks away, and Santana turns around to see Puck waiting for her at the end of the hall, and, okay. That's a bit of surprise, but also not, and God.

Santana stands in the hallway for a second, watching Puck taking Quinn's heavy bag off her shoulder to carry, and becomes suddenly aware of the acute emptiness she feels next to her, figuring Brittany is probably off somewhere with Finn.

And standing there while everyone – even the pregnant chick – gets to pair off, well.

Santana realizes that she hasn't made a move to keep up appearances lately, and goes to find Mike first, and a secluded spot after that.

–

"Study this," Santana says, tossing a book at Marley. "You need to learn some basic cheer terms."

"Why?" Marley asks, flipping through the pictures.

"When Sue's bullhorn orders you to do a herkie, trust me, you're going to want to know what it is, and how to do it right."

It's early on a morning when they don't have Cheerio practice before school, and Santana ordered Marley to come to an additional private practice so she can catch up with the rest of the squad.

"Okay," Marley says, then jumps up and looks at Santana expectantly, lately much more comfortable in her cheer outfit. "So, where do we start?"

Marley's not in bad shape, but there are still many areas of her fitness that need to be honed specifically for the sport. It's more taxing than Santana realized, and she sighs, knowing that it's going to take a few more sessions of her guiding Marley to fix the errors in her form, and help her master the positions in the book Santana gave her.

Santana feels heavy. She figured, earlier, that she could just come here once and show Marley all she needs to know, then leave Marley to pick up the slack on her own.

She hates being wrong.

–

"_Santana_," Brittany gasps, bringing her hand up to tangle in Santana's hair, the other keeping a tight grip on Santana's waist.

Santana can feel Brittany's thighs being hitched up higher on her waist, and Santana groans out as she can feel her fingers going deeper inside Brittany, and then Brittany moans out her name again.

Santana is surprised when Brittany's hand goes from her waist to touching her, too, and Santana moans out in turn, hips moving against Brittany's with renewed purpose.

They've got a great rhythm going, and Santana feels like she's flying – God, it feels _so good_ – and she could honestly do this forever if they just keep–

Brittany's phone rings, breaking Santana's movements for a moment before she continues again.

"Is that–" Brittany starts, speaking as if she's waking from a dream.

"Leave it," Santana rasps, pushing deeper and harder as if to cancel out the noise.

The phone stops, but soon starts up again, and Brittany brings her hand from Santana's hair to gently push at Santana's chest.

"San," she breathes out, pushing Santana away further, "just give me a second."

Santana huffs, frustrated. Christ. She stops moving, but resists Brittany pushing her away. "Just leave it, Britt," she says again.

"It could be serious," Brittany says. Her tone is sweet, like she doesn't want to hurt Santana's feelings, and honestly, _as if_.

She leans up and gives Santana a kiss on the cheek, and well, that's pretty much what gets Santana moving off her in a second.

She watches Brittany's naked back as she reaches up and answers the phone, sitting on the side of the bed. Santana's eyes follow the soft wave of her hair all the way to the curve of her bum, the light colour of her skin creating a strangely alluring contrast to Santana's dark sheets.

In her mind, she tries to compare the soft lines running down Brittany's spine to the rough muscle of Puck's back, but then realizes that Puck's back isn't really that memorable, and she can't quite recalls what he looks like naked right now. She wonders if it's weird that she can probably draw every detail of Brittany's body from memory if she needed to. She decides it isn't – they've known what each other's bodies looked like since they were kids, so it's really not that fair to compare, anyway.

When Brittany puts the phone down on the bedside table, Santana realizes that she's blanked out for the entire conversation, and then frowns when Brittany just stays sitting there.

"Britt?" Santana calls softly.

She sits up and moves closer when, instead of coming at the beckon, Brittany just hangs her head.

Santana runs a hand up Brittany's back, confused when Brittany lets out a deep breath and runs a hands through her hair. Santana's not an idiot when it comes to picking up moods, and so she decides to play to Brittany's tune when she leans down and places a tender kiss on Brittany's shoulder.

"Alright?" Santana says, running a hand up Brittany's thigh, wanting to pick up where they left off.

Brittany's hand covers her own and stops the movement. "Santana..."

"What?" Santana says, and it comes out snappier than she wants it to.

"That was Finn," Brittany says. Then, "I can't."

Then Brittany pushes Santana's hand back and moves away from Santana toward the headboard, leaving Santana cold and confused.

"Seriously?" Santana says, now highly frustrated.

"This feels like cheating."

"Come on, Brittany," Santana husks, flaring up, "this is not the time." She gestures to their nakedness, implication clear. "We always have boys and you never had a problem–"

"I've never had a _boyfriend_, Santana," Brittany says, and she sounds angry for some reason. "You didn't even ask me how I feel about it. We never talk anymore, just..."

Santana sits back on the bed, mood completely ruined now. "Where is this coming from?"

Brittany just looks down for a second, then leans over and pulls a top over her head. Santana follows suit and pulls on her underwear and a tank top.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Brittany finally speaks up.

Santana says nothing. She's caught in a weird haze of being confused, angry and still horny.

"I really like Finn," Brittany continues.

"So what," Santana says, "suddenly a boy comes along and we're not best friends anymore? God, I thought 'bros before hos' was just some stupid cliché."

"Best friends don't have sex like we do, Santana, you know that," Brittany says, using her serious tone, the one where she makes it clear she's totally on page with the conversation, and it sends a shiver down Santana's spine. "We don't need to practice. We haven't needed to do that for years, and–"

"Whatever," Santana says, because this, whatever this is, is so not where she planned her night to go when she invited Brittany over to keep her company with her parents away for the weekend. "Your point?"

"Are we ever going to talk about this?" Brittany asks, and Santana knows that tone. It's the one where Brittany tries to be careful. "I think I might... Well, I like boys, but I think I also–"

"So, you like the Lump, big deal." Santana gulps, suddenly so desperate for a topic change that she'd even let Hudson take precedence over whatever the fuck Brittany was attempting to launch into there. "Why can't we fuck?"

Santana can take many negative looks that Brittany throws her way, but this one is the worst – disappointment.

Santana tries again, with a tone that's less cutting, "It's just something we do, Britt, it's not big deal."

"Well, it is to me," Brittany says frankly, and Santana's heart beats faster. "But so is Finn. He's really, really nice, San. He makes me smile just by talking, and he... I don't think it's fair. I wouldn't like it very much if he was kissing Puck behind my back, even if they are best friends."

The visual almost makes Santana crack up, but somehow the hurt of being pushed aside like this is too strong. And because she never quite knows how to react to things when she's not fucking or fucking things up, she stands up and grabs a pair of sweatpants.

Fuck, she can't even properly storm out because it's her house.

"I'm going to go sleep in the guest room," Santana bites out. "If you don't sort your fucking priorities by morning, you can kindly fuck off."

Santana spends all night tossing in an unfamiliar bed, and eventually only passes out from exhaustion.

When she wakes up the next day, Brittany is nowhere to be found.

–

They don't speak for a week.

Quinn tries to approach her on the second day, presumably to play negotiator, but Santana simply _looks_ at her, and Quinn keeps her distance instead.

She broods in glee club, the only place where she doesn't have a band of loyal followers to make her feel less alone, and where she has to sit through Finn singing some Bryan Adams number to an elated Brittany.

Her mood turns so sour that she puts her cheer team through utter hell, so much that, one afternoon, she actually makes one of her Cheerios puke from pure exhaustion. She feels only mild guilt, the proud look Sue gives her being more than enough to stave off any remaining regret.

It's stupid, because Santana knows she was a dick, but seriously, she's not made of stone, either, so. There's also a part of her that feels oddly happy for Brittany, who, aside from the obvious pain of being without Santana, looks so content at her hand being held by Finn as they walk from class to class, laughing at something only they understand. It's somehow a nice change from Brittany being treated as an object to be used by the jocks for so long.

Santana just doesn't understand why she has to suffer because of it, though.

–

She takes back everything she ever said about glee – because _this_ is the actual worst.

A rollerskating rink is too much like ice skating for Santana's taste; and Santana _hates_ anything to do with that sport. When she was young, she and Brittany were psyched to go ice skating for the first time, but Santana didn't take to it too well.

All was fine and dandy, though, because she still had loads of fun, falling and running into walls aside. It somehow escaped her seven-year-old mind, though, that the blades on the bottom of her skates were, in fact, _blades _blades, and after one of many crashes, she found herself on the ground, someone skating so close to her fallen body that they only just missed her face.

The harsh sound and image of the blade cutting through the ice mere inches from her eyes is something that scarred her for life.

Brittany, moving like a natural on any surface, of course, immediately dragged a sobbing Santana off the ice, and Santana's never returned since, opting to cheer Brittany on from the sidelines whenever they visited the rink from then on.

It becomes a thing of pride, when Manhands hands her a pair of skates and Wheels whistles some encouraging words for her to join them, and shit. No one's going to peg her as being _scared_ today. No sir, not her.

Santana crosses her arms when she realizes she's once again left alone while everyone else pairs off, and then reluctantly steps onto the ice. She's a Lopez, for Christ sake, so she's not going to stand there like a loser.

She gets about ten inches before she feels gravity start working against her, and she's slipping, slipping...

Strong arms catch her. She looks up to find Brittany smiling down at her, fondly, and Santana can't help but smile back in that moment of defencelessness.

Brittany gently tangles their fingers together.

"Come on," she says, then helps Santana moves around the track.

It takes about one lap for them to solve whatever tension was left between them, and the heavy weight on Santana's chest becomes somewhat lighter.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispers, when they come to a standstill at the side of the rink.

Brittany hugs her for long moments. When Santana disentangles her body, she catches a glimpse of Finn looking at them in concern. Well, if he continues in this fashion, worrying for Brittany's wellbeing, at least it looks like he's not going to be too shitty a boyfriend.

"Your flab awaits," Santana says, subtly pushing Brittany in his direction.

Brittany looks at her with a frown, and Santana rolls her eyes.

"It's alright, Britt. Later, okay?" Santana promises. They're not broken beyond repair, after all.

Brittany smiles brilliantly, and quickly hugs Santana before darting off to skate with Finn, and Santana smiles at the sight of them. It seems Finn needs just as much help with this as she does.

For a minute, she just watches them all, Quinn and Puck, Finn and Brittany, even Manhands and her imported transfer boyfriend, and feels incredibly lonely, all of a sudden. But then she shakes it off, because she's not actually that pathetic. Instead, she starts making her way off the rink, snail levels of slow.

An arm threads through her own, however, and she's startled when she looks over to find Marley grinning at her. She looks to see Asian Goth now attached to Wheels and Matt instead, Matt and Asian Goth now pulling Wheels between them.

"You're not leaving so soon, are you?" Marley asks.

"Uh," is all Santana says, because they're moving and she's terrified, and she would really like to get away from Marley and the rink and it's pretty fucking daunting that she's physically incapable of doing that right now.

"You alright?" Marley says, catching the look on Santana's face.

"Mm-hmm," Santana nods,

Marley chuckles. "Okay, _captain_."

Marley takes her for a few spins – Santana wonders if Marley notices the death grip on her arm, and if it's cutting off her blood circulation in any way – and before long, she finds herself being alternated between members of the club as they skate around in varying groups. She tries to keep her face between 'mildly annoyed' and 'generally displeased' throughout the night, but, try as she might to deny it...

There's a small part of her that enjoys the entire thing.

A very, very small part, is all.

–

"You're slouching too much before hauling yourself up," Santana tells Marley.

Marley's face is strained, sweat dripping from her forehead. Sue sent them away from the team so Santana can help Marley perfect her pikes. Marley has improved greatly over the last couple of weeks, but she still lacks in comparison to the other Cheerios who, in Marley's defence, have been doing these moves for years.

"I know, I just, I dunno. It's so basic, I know that, but my body still isn't used to moving in that way," Marley says, hands on her hips. "I'm practicing every day, I swear."

"I know," Santana says sincerely, because she's gotten used to playing the motivating leader at times, too. "It's just gonna take some more time. But don't overdo it. We can't afford any injuries this late in the game."

Marley looks panicked at this. Santana pulls her over toward the rest of the team.

"We've got a lot of time until nationals, okay? Just keep your head on."

"Right, captain," Marley says, smiling slightly, and Santana rolls her eyes.

"Seriously. Don't," Santana replies, joking.

Marley just smiles before falling in rank with the rest, and Sue pairs them off to practice lifts. Brittany immediately guns for Santana and Santana laughs as Brittany drags her off by her wrist.

They talked for a long time after their moment in the rink, and the short of it; Brittany apparently really digs Finn and also digs the novelty of this "relationship thingy" as she calls it ("We're having so much fun going on dates and stuff, and no one's pants are coming off!"), they're going to try being normal best friends again, and Santana's fine with not having sex, because she can get it any time she wants in other places, anyway.

It's just something to get used to, like now, when she's near Brittany and they're intertwined and touching and so _close_, but she's unable to sneak off and get rid of the tension quickly building up inside of her. And she said she's fine with not having sex, but not getting turned on when Brittany's sweating and pressed up against her like this?

Well, that part's a bit easier said than done.

–

"This is ridiculous," Santana says, holding one of the 'Glists' in her hand. She's walking with Quinn and scoffing. "Firstly, the whole idea of a 'Glist' is pointless, and second, you're my homegirl, but there's no fucking way I'd be number _two_."

Quinn snorts. "Always the modest one, S."

"And how is Britt _four?_ No way Puck is hotter than her," Santana says, but then catches the curious look on Quinn's face, and amends, "no offence intended to your baby daddy and all, but you know what I mean."

Quinn doesn't take the bait, though, and still looks at her questioningly. "Actually, I don't." Quinn's tone is soft and she looks at Santana expectantly, like she wants to get all emotional up in here in the middle of the hallway, and Santana just flicks her hair instead of playing into Fabray's ever-vague hands.

"Jesse at five, and how is mousy little Marley that fucking high on the list? At number six, no less. Finn might not be hot, but he's still the quarterback, so what's he doing _under_ random Marley? Seriously, this whole thing is whack."

"Marley is beautiful," Quinn comments. "Come on, you put her on the Cheerios, you know that. And that comes with some status."

"She doesn't care about that stuff," Santana says, and it actually surprises herself that she knows that, but it just came to her all of a sudden. "I mean, yeah, I guess, but like. Well, it's just surprising."

"You two friends now?" Quinn asks. "I like her. She's incredibly kind – but like, the honest type of kind, no ulterior motives, and that."

"Whatever," Santana says. "Let's talk about how this was totally Manhands' doing."

"Definitely," Quinn agrees, and Santana, knowing Quinn almost as long as she's known Brittany, wonders why she's lying.

–

Santana's horny.

It's late, she's bored, and also super, super horny. Not getting regular sex from Brittany is having a worse effect on her than expected.

She could call Matt, or Mike, or really any guy of her choice right now, but she's really not in the mood for that. She just wants Brittany to come over and take care of it for her, but she's on a date with Finn, and well, they're not doing that anymore, so.

Santana slips her hand under her waistband and closes her eyes, trying to pretend it's Brittany instead.

It's not nearly enough.

At school the next day, she grabs the linebacker – she can't remember his name right now, but he has a decent face, so – into the janitor's closet and sloppily attacks his lips in the dark.

"Hey, Santana," he growls in what he probably thinks is a sexy voice – but God it's not.

"Shut up," Santana says, and he grins against her mouth, mumbling an agreement against her lips.

It takes about ten seconds of kissing and stroking him for him to get hard, and so that's enough of that. Santana tears her mouth away from his and hands him a condom. She lays her jacket on the shelf and hoists herself onto it, shrugging off her spanks and letting her feet dangle off the countertop.

By the time she's settled, Linebacker has readied himself and steps in between her thighs. He tries to kiss her but she just turns her head so he gets her neck instead. She takes his hand and rubs it over her clit, and when she's ready, she takes him in her hands and lines him up, telling him not to bother with being gentle.

It's even less satisfying than doing it herself, and she wonders why she even bothered. Afterward, she just grunts when he thanks her and leaves the closet, even more wound up than before.

–

Sue calls her into her office.

"So instead of driving out Berry, you've brought in another star to back the glee club, which, last time I checked, was not crumbling like pie, and instead, becoming ever more popular with a sex-ranking system that would scandalize even most heathen of eyes – by which, of course, I am referring to one Britney Spears."

Sue barely takes a breath before staring at Santana pointedly over her glasses.

"Any explanation as to why that's happened?"

"Jesse tried to prove his love when Rachel left him, which – come on, no one expected that," Santana justifies.

Sue couldn't possibly blame _her_ for that, could she? When Sue just keeps staring at her, Santana almost panics that she will, but then Sue takes a deep breath and leans back, seeing reason.

"New plan," Sue says. "You turn little Marley Rose into a more attractive, more supple version of Rachel Berry. Make her ambitious, manipulate her into going for every solo, everything Berry wants. When Rose gets ahead, whisper doubts in Berry's ear."

"Marley is just as adequate a singer as Berry," Santana says. Like her conversation with Quinn, it's something she only just belatedly realized, now that she's made to think about it. "It doesn't help if the glee club still has a star if Berry leaves them." Realizing her error of doubting her coach, she quickly adds, "What about Mercedes and Kurt?"

Sue smiles devilishly. "They're already more dedicated to me than the club." she ponders for a while. "I can use that, yes. I'll sleep on the Berry issue. Now go burn some music sheets, or something."

–

Just to be prepared for her next meeting with Sue, Santana asks Marley, "So, if you had to choose between glee and cheering, which one would you choose?"

"Glee," Marley asks without pause, and shit. That's not looking too good, so far. "Not that I don't like Cheerios," Marley quickly adds, "it's just that I've had a passion for singing my whole life."

They're warming up before cheer practice. Santana pulled Marley aside for stretching before anyone else could snatch her up, and to appease Brittany's confusion at not being picked by Santana, she just whispered, "Sue stuff." Brittany, God love her, just smiled, nodded and happily bounced away to find another partner.

"Remember the scholarship, though," Santana presses, looking up at Marley, who's pressing down on Santana's shoulders while she bends forward, in a split on the grass.

"Mr Shuester's really positive about our chances at nationals this year," Marley says.

"He's an idiot," Santana says, and ignores Marley's protests. "Either way, Cheerios are the safest calculated option."

Santana stands up and faces Marley as Marley lifts her leg up to place it on Santana's shoulder. Santana catches her calve in her hands, holding Marley in place as she bends toward Santana.

Marley says something, but Santana misses it on account of suddenly becoming aware of having so much bare skin right in front of her. It's like, this happens to her every day, but it's usually Brittany's leg, so. Though less defined than Brittany's, Marley's calves are decently toned, and so is her thigh, running up to where her hip meets her skirt, which is in pretty fucking amazing shape as well, and is actually really–

"Santana?"

Santana shakes out of her stupor and sees Marley looking at her in concern.

"You okay?"

"Hmm?" Santana catches up with reality. "Yeah, sorry, what did you say?"

"I still have two years to work on scholarship stuff, you know?"

"Yeah," Santana answers non-committally, but her brain has already moved on from the conversation and they spend the rest of their warm-up in comfortable silence.

Shit, going without decent sex for so long has seriously addled her brain.

In a very bad way.

–

"Harder, Jesus, what is wrong with you?" Santana urges, kicking Matt on the back of his upper thigh with her ankle.

He speeds up, pushing her harder against the shower wall, and God, the thrill of almost being caught in the boys locker room...

…is regrettably also not doing anything for her at all.

"Hurry up," Santana continues, already resigned to not coming this time around. At least the Linebacker made sure she was taken care of, but she's been with Matt before, and well, his track record with her isn't the best.

It takes two more minutes before he drives into her a final time, slumping happily against her and kissing her neck.

"That was awesome," Matt says in her ear, sucking on her lobe, which, gross.

"Come on," Santana says, pulling up her panties and glancing at the locker room to make sure it's still empty.

He grins at her, mistaking her urgency for the fear and adventure of being caught, and she just smirks back, happy with letting him think that.

Hopefully, that's what the story will be when it travels later on.

–

Santana starts feeling some pressure.

She doesn't know where it comes from. Whether it's to be virtually perfect wherever she goes, finally starting to understand the weight of having all eyes on her, or if it's Sue breathing down her back, or with the year suddenly seeming to move too fast with both cheerios and glee nationals looming.

Also, exams and shit, but despite her not being all boasting;y _Berry_ about things, she's always rocked the house academically, so she's not too fussed about it. But it's there under the surface, so, with everything else...

Well, glee doesn't stress her out so much.

(It's actually one of the few things that takes the edge off. The only thing, actually, as one other option that usually does the trick isn't working so well right now.)

"You alright?" a voice whispers from her left, and Santana starts before noticing Marley sitting in the seat next to her. Chick's a fucking ghost, she swears. Though maybe this says more about Santana being caught up in her own thoughts, not having noticed Marley throughout the whole period.

Mr Shue prattles on about something in the background, and so Santana just nods in Marley's direction.

"Sure?" comes the voice again, and goddamnit, when did Santana start giving off the vibe that she's in the market for friends?

She pretends she can't hear, cause really, she's not alright, but she's also not about to go blabbing her feelings all over the school to practical strangers, so.

She sits in silence the whole period, completely zoning out and stressing about the new changes to the cheer routine, picturing it in her head. She barely notices when everyone around her starts getting up, so focused on her own thoughts, body rigid as she stands up like a zombie and follows everyone out of the room.

As she goes, she feels a hand on her arm, and then Marley sidles in next to her.

"Hey," Marley says, smiling at her sincerely, and what the fuck? "You're a great singer and a great captain. You told me not to push myself – you shouldn't either, okay?"

And then there's a smile and she's off, and Santana wonders how it can be possible for any normal human being to be that fucking open and chilled about baring their feelings. She concludes that Marley's an alien of sorts, of course.

She appreciates it, though, when the pressure in her system lessens just a little as she missions to her next class.

Of all the things that work as a temporary anaesthetic, she didn't expect a simple squeeze to the shoulder to be one of them.

–

So the glist issue is finally sorted. She sighs as she watches Quinn walk to her locker, even more forlornly than usual.

She closes in when most of the hallway's deserted.

"Why did you post it, Quinn?" she asks, knowing it's best to catch Quinn off guard – she usually doesn't leave much room to be buttered up beforehand.

Quinn sighs and closes her locker, looking around before walking away, nodding her head for Santana to follow. When they're side by side, Quinn pointedly avoids eye contact before softly saying, "I feel invisible."

"You could have told me," Santana says seriously, because sometimes she misses the way things used to be, too.

"Yeah?" Quinn says, angry all of a sudden, pushing Santana into a silent part of the corridor. "And why do you think I feel that way, Santana? Who's the visible one now?" Quinn glances around before adding, more softly now, "You won; I didn't want you rubbing it in my face. Or worse, sound like I'm blaming you for my mistakes." She gestures in the general space of her uterus.

Santana sighs, and falls back against the wall behind her. "Things are shitty, aren't they?"

Quinn just looks down, bites her lip. Santana lets out a deep breath and pulls Quinn on the arm. "We're gonna be late for geography."

Puck passes by them and tries to smile at Quinn, but Quinn just gives him the cold shoulder, and Santana says, "So, that's–"

"Nothing," Quinn cuts her off. "Wasn't really anything to begin with."

Santana cuts back her snarky, _I__t begins with him being the father of your child,_ and tries not to be a dick for a minute.

"You know you can talk to me about stuff," Santana tries, and Quinn laughs immediately. "Okay fine, maybe not, but like, yeah. At the least, I can kick people's asses if they're mean to you, so hit me up, and all that."

When they get into class, there are two seats open behind Finn and Brittany, who are smiling at each other like no other care in the world exists.

"When did B become the put together one?" Quinn whispers, leaning closer so they're not overheard or spotted by their teacher.

"She's always been the most put together, Q, she's just not sleeping around anymore."

"I heard," Quinn says, then adds dryly, "I hope you're not looking at me to take her place."

"Fuck off," Santana says easily, because the only reason she's letting Quinn talk about this, at fucking all, is due to the pity she feels for the things Quinn just made her privy to minutes earlier.

Quinn smirks at her and then the teacher announces the start of their class.

Santana rolls her eyes, takes out her books and tries not to let the pressure seep in at the seams for like, at least this hour.

–

She tries not to worry about schoolwork, she honestly does, but when Mr Jones throws a heavy team-project shaped curve ball at her in chemistry, she almost throws a hissy fit. Almost.

"It's not up for discussion, Miss Lopez," he says finally, after already debating with her for ten minutes, and well, if she can't convince him, Santana knows nothing else can change his mind.

He takes his time in reading partners from the register, and it's like one of those moments where Santana knows what'll happen just seconds before it does, because of course that'll be the pairing she gets with how her luck's been going lately.

"Lopez and..." the teacher reads, eyeing her and drawing the moment out just to spite her, she's sure, "Rose."

Seriously. Santana doesn't any need more time with this random chick that just seems to be popping up everywhere in her life lately. Nothing about this is in any way fucking necessary.

For her part though, Rose is all perky and happy to be paired with a _pal_ and immediately slides in the seat next to Santana's and starts rattling on about ideas and just–

She stops talking as soon as Santana raises a simple hand to stop her, and good, at least that move's still working, then.

"We'll make plans in Cheerios and sort it later."

She makes it sound final, and they go about working on their homework in silence, until a hand pushes at her side, and honestly–

It's an earphone. Marley holds it out to her with a smile, other part already digging into her own ear. She glances at the teacher, who still sits unaware at his own desk. Santana sighs and grabs it, startled when it comes into contact with her own eardrum and the sound filters through. It's...

"Paper Kites," Marley offers. "I heard you hum it under your breath in glee the other day."

"You know Bloom?" Santana says, completely abandoning her previous façade of aloofness.

"It's perfect," is the only answer she gets, and Marley smiles simply before going back to her work, finally getting with the programme that Santana likes to be left alone.

Santana stares at Marley for a moment before shaking her head and going back to her own book.

What a strange fucking universe she's suddenly been thrown into.

–

"You look real pretty, B," Santana says, putting on the last bit of Brittany's eyeliner.

Finn's taking Brittany out on a special Friday night date, and so far as Santana understands it, a v-card will definitely be swiped tonight.

"Thanks," Brittany says, actually seeming bashful. "Do you think he'll like it?"

"As long as he has sight, definitely."

Santana finishes and gives Brittany a once over. Yeah, Finn definitely won't know what hit him, and like, yeah. Brittany looks _good_. If this were a few weeks ago, Santana definitely would have made better use of the twenty minutes they have until Finn comes to pick Brittany up.

Santana hands Brittany her purse. "If you dig into it you might find a few hundred extra condoms stashed in there," Santana says casually, leaning back onto Brittany's bed. "It's out of pure love and concern, because we can not deal with another Q-case right now."

Brittany gives Santana one of her sparse eye-rolls. "I've been in the clear for several years now, San. We're good."

"Really?" Santana raises an eyebrow. "Then why's your teeth digging into your lip? Ruining my brilliant handiwork, might I add."

Brittany smiles that smile that lets Santana know she's happy Santana notices something even remotely out of her stunted emotional range.

"I'm nervous," Brittany admits.

Santana laughs. "Hudson won't know any different. Even if he did, you know you'll be better than anything he's had."

"Not about the sex," Brittany elaborates. "That's easy. But I really like him."

"So you've said."

"So, then it'll be different."

"How?"

Brittany looks at Santana with a look she can't quite decipher. After letting out a breath, she says, carefully, "It's always different when it's more than just sex."

Santana scoffs. "Sex is sex."

Brittany's stare hardens, and Santana folds into herself when she realizes the look engraved there is sorrow.

"San..." Brittany starts, but then sidetracks with, "I think that maybe, it will be better."

This time, Santana is the one who rolls her eyes. "Yeah, no. If he's shitty in bed, _love_ won't be filling that space where glorious orgasms used to be."

Brittany's foot connect lightly with her shin, and Santana just shrugs.

"It's not love, just _like_ for now," is all Brittany says in return. Then, she makes things awful by adding, "I love you, too, but that's different, you know? But that's still why it always felt so good with us."

Santana's gaze is about to burn a whole in the floor, she's sure. She tells Brittany a lot of things, but she's not about to show her agreement to that fact. In fact, she won't ever do that.

Luckily, Santana gets a reprieve when Brittany's mom calls from downstairs, announcing Finn's arrival. When Santana finally looks at Brittany again, they're walking down the stairs. Brittany smiles at her gently and threads an arm through Santana's own.

Outside, she watches as Brittany gets in what must be Finn's mom's car, kisses him on the cheek, and then they're off.

Santana hits the sidewalk and is alarmed to notice that she feels quite lonely again, knowing there's nothing but her empty house waiting for her tonight. She thinks back to what Brittany said, and suddenly realizes that maybe that's it – it wasn't the fact that it was _Brittany_ that always made her feel like her skin was about to explode, but she was right in thinking that it's because they are best friends.

And maybe, sex is better when there's that connection. Not like, feelings and shit, because no, but maybe just a heightened sense of familiarity. Which is even more of a problem, because it's not like Santana is running high on those connections, except...

Of course. There's always been one guy that she's twirled around more than once, so, whatever. And the itch under her skin is still as prominent as ever to boot.

It could be worth the try.

–

"Not that I'm not flattered, but what calls for the occasion?"

"In not so many words, Fabray indicated that you're free game again," Santana replies lazily. "And, you know, a girl has needs, so."

She and Puck are in the back of his pickup, sharing a joint and looking out over McKinley's empty football field. He smirks at her words and she just kicks his shin, then pinches her fingers together so he gets the point and passes the blunt over to her.

When they finally put it out, Santana leans over and kisses Puck, tries to do it deeply, and tries to think of how much fun Puck can be to hang out with, sometimes.

It's not feeling different, yet, but maybe she's just trying too hard, and maybe it's just too sudden. Minutes later, they're pulling off their clothes, and Santana breathes in deeply, tries to focus.

She pushes Puck on his back and lets him slip into her easily, since he's rather adept at getting her ready by now. She tries to take it slow, spending time just moving against him while hiding in her oh-so-familiar place in the crook of his neck. His hands come up and play with her breasts, and she holds on to his shoulders, and well.

It's nice, she guesses. It's fine.

Later, when they start picking up speed, she pushes up on her hands and presses down against him harder, feeling him almost, almost hit where she needs him inside.

For a second, she catches his eyes, looking back at her, brow furrowed in pleasure, but God, that's so, so weird, and she quickly looks away. She lifts her head upwards and arches her back, and _yeah_ he finally gets her where she wants him.

They're on the final stretch, she knows, and she works against him faster in flowing movements, and well.

She's staring up at the stars – that's supposed to be the stuff of romance, right? – and he's holding her hips tightly, and she _knows_ Puck, and this is all so comfortably familiar, so it feels...

Fine.

It all feels _fine_.

He comes before she does, but spends time in making sure she follows, and when she does, it's satisfying to a degree, but–

No buts, Santana decides as she slumps against him, then lies in the back of his truck with him while they finish another joint. No buts, because maybe, this time she can make it work.

How cool would it be, her dating Puck and Brittany dating Finn, the two top bitches of the school with the top stud and quarterback? They'd be unstoppable.

And maybe, with time, some or other sort feelings can arise – Santana tries not to be too freaked out by the thought – and then she and Puck can have some great sex, too, just like she did with Brittany.

She can pretend. She can try just a little bit harder than last time.

Maybe this can work.

–

Finn starts the week off by singing yet another loved-up Bryan Adams song to Brittany, the soft rock complimenting his voice perfectly, which is – well, yeah.

Even Santana will admit that it's not the worst thing in the world, so.

Someone is definitely a very happy non-virgin. Brittany told Santana all about it on Saturday, and well, Santana is just happy that everything went well and that no one is pregnant. Well, no one _else_.

Brittany looks so happy. Like, Santana's seen the brain-dead people in this school fawning over each other like their life depended on it sometimes, and thought they were fools for it, but. Now it's her best friend, and to her, Brittany is one of the smartest people on the planet, so if she's succumbed to it as well...

Santana wonders if she's been missing something.

When Puck comes in with his head shaven, and looks like a dog who's been neutered – seriously, it's like going from a rottweiler to a schnauzer – Santana _fumes_.

She can't be wanting to be all dedicated to him and shit if he isn't at least going to be bringing his side of the partnership. And by that she means his fear-instilling cred, of course.

Suddenly the effort of actually trying to date someone doesn't seem worth it. So much for finding out if being friends with the person she fucks could help her relieve some of the tension, because, well.

Now she definitely won't.

–

Mr Shue wants her to find her voice.

Goddamn.

She hasn't fucking lost anything, and doesn't know why she needs to do fucking _glee_ homework when she's swamped with too much shit already. It doesn't help that Berry chooses the same lesson to remind them all there's only four weeks left until regionals. That means there's only three weeks left for cheer nationals.

What does voice-finding even mean? She's hot, in control and heading for big things. Ain't no song going to sum all that epicness up in three minutes.

At least Brittany's stumped, too, and so is Quinn, so really. It's a stupid lesson. And Rachel is sick or some shit, so Santana won't be counting on her turn getting passed up this week and knows she needs to actually be prepared for once.

She opts to just stop thinking about it and probably come up with a summer hit on the spot if prompted in glee, but–

"What are you doing for your glee song?"

Santana looks up from her book to see Marley looking at her curiously. They're in the library working on their project, and Santana has so much on her fucking plate that the last thing she wants to do with her time is a) make small talk and b) stress even more about upcoming deadlines.

So she counters with a question about their work instead, and tries to focus for the rest of their study mission, keeps her head low and concentrates.

Whenever she answers something coolly without thinking too much about it, Marley looks surprised, like she didn't know someone could be head cheerleader and smart as shit, and Santana just about refrains from fucking Marley up for it. It's not that Santana's soft now or some shit, it's just that it's rather difficult to be mean to someone so unbearably nice.

At the end of their session, Marley gives her this secret smile, like she knows something about Santana now that other people don't, and God. They were just paired up by accident, this could have happened to anyone, and she shouldn't look so fucking delirious about it, Jesus.

When they part, Marley brings up glee again and says, "I'm excited to hear what song you're going to use to describe yourself in glee." She winks and adds, "It's definitely going to be the most interesting one, I think."

Santana just frowns, because what? And before she can tell Marley to fuck off, Marley has done so already, walking away from Santana without a care in the world.

(In her current state, Santana finds that something to envy.)

–

Marley is one of the firsts to perform her song, which is, ugh, Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson. As soon as she announced it Santana groaned to herself – earning an elbow in her ribs from Brittany – because can Marley get any more small-town-girl clichéd than that?

But then Marley opens her mouth and lets loose.

Because Santana simply never pays attention, she regularly doesn't notice most things happening in her nearby vicinity. Recently, though, with this girl becoming such a strangely recurring fixture in her life, she's been made all the more aware of Marley fucking Rose.

She's read about it before, how the human brain suffers from observation bias or something select like that – like pregnant people seeing babies everywhere, but it's not that babies are multiplying, but only that with being pregnant, it's constantly or your mind, and you're just _noticing_ it more instead, making it seem like it's increased its frequency.

Well, Marley is Santana's baby, so to speak – she's been there the whole fucking time, but lately Santana's just been forced to acknowledge her presence more, so now that Santana's focus is zeroed in on this bias in particular, it's...

_Shit_.

Berry thinks she's all that, and Santana knows Aretha isn't far behind, but _this __girl_. Santana realized this to an extent before, but Marley can actually _legit_ hold a candle to both the other two. She just doesn't act like it, the way the rest of the divas do, so that's why it's so unexpected. And the way she goes about glee – Santana's been noticing a lot lately, apparently – like she honestly just _loves_ it, it's just so...

Santana sits back, and lets the performance wash over her.

Marley's persona is so demure that the pure strength in the sounds leaving her mouth is nothing less than a revelation. Santana finds that Marley's voice, just like the shoulder squeeze she gave Santana the other day, is lulling her into a strange sense of calmness, and it's simultaneously the weirdest and nicest sensation ever.

By the end, there's not a single muscle in her eye yearning to roll.

–

"This is the game plan," Sue says, not even waiting for Santana to properly enter her office before she starts. "Berry is out of action, Shuester will be screwed if she doesn't recover, and this is the time to _strike_."

Santana takes a seat. She has a feeling she's going to need it.

"You're going to convince Rose to drop out of glee. I'm going to do the same to Hummel and Hag. We tell them it's all or nothing, now. We're on the brink of taking nationals, and glee is just barely holding on," Sue looks at her closely. "You manipulate her, you do whatever it takes to have her cross over. They lose, we win."

"She going to leave us instead," Santana dares to retort, trying to be calm, but making sure she has an escape strategy in mind in case Sue plans to lynch her.

Sue lowers her glasses slowly. "Do you not understand the concept of manipulation?"

"I've already tried to broach the subject. She'll choose glee, no matter what."

Sue says nothing, and after a minute of being stared down, Santana clears her throat.

"Coach?"

"I'm not used to repeating myself, Santana," Sue says, voice low, and Santana gulps because first-name usage has never been a good sign with Sue, "and I'm not about to start this late in the game."

Santana nods, not at all convinced that this is going to work. Sue notices.

"I'm not wanting to question the captaincy so close to nationals, Lopez, so don't make me."

And well, now Santana's convinced.

–

She pulls Marley away while stretching again – no shoulder-leg stretches this time, mental note – and this time aims to make her proposition all the more enticing.

Santana knows how to play this; the promise of inclusion, being made to feel special, then the subtle urging to take a step in the direction of Santana's choice under the guise of _true friendship_, or whatever the fuck.

"I'm not gonna be able to make it to our project meeting tomorrow," Santana tells Marley, casually as possible. "So you wanna come over to my house after cheer practice today and just get the damn thing finished in one? You can like, stay for dinner and shit if you want to."

Marley smiles widely at this. Santana mentally high-fives herself.

–

After Cheerios, Santana is _destroyed_.

Sue's grilling them extra hard in preparation, and with everything else, it's just too fucking much, she's sure her body is going to give out on her any day now.

"Can I come over to yours after school?" Brittany asks as they're walking to the parking lot.

Santana knows the reasoning behind the question, and she frowns. "Aren't you worried about Hudson running off with Berry all the time?"

Brittany shrugs. "He's just helping her with her sickness or something. It's nothing."

"It better be," Santana huffs. "I'll break his neck."

"I know," is all Brittany says. "So, this afternoon?"

Santana groans. "I wish I could, but I need to work on that fucked-up chem project with whats-her-face."

A frown. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not mean," Santana says coolly. "I just don't have time for all this fucking work and I'm so goddamn tired and things are just... Shit, at the moment."

Brittany looks at her with one of her rare serious faces. "Is everything all right, San?" she asks softly.

_I've been worked up for ages cause you won't fuck me and I'm so frustrated __with __life in general __right now that__ I feel like dying, mostly,_ isn't a suitable answer, Santana knows this, so instead she just says, "I'm fine."

Marley needed to get something from her locker or talk to her mom or something, Santana wasn't paying attention, and told Santana she'll meet her by her car. For once in her life, she pops up when Santana actually fucking needs her, and Santana is ever so thankful to be able to escape from Brittany's inquisitive stare.

"I'll come by yours later tonight," Brittany says, telling and not asking. Santana knows Brittany wants to check on her and she just nods, knowing there are some fights she'll just never win.

Marley greets Brittany as she goes and then meets Santana with that constant bright smile plastered on her face.

Santana doesn't return it, instead just opens her car, exhausted.

"Get in, then."

–

It's about two hours in, needing a break, that Santana approaches the topic.

They're sitting at the desk in Santana's room, sweating over the final stretch of their project. Santana sits up, stretches out and realizes her muscles are basically locked in after the brutality that was cheer practice and now crouching over her stupid papers. Her shoulders are _killing_ her.

"All right?" Marley asks.

Caught off guard and slightly fucking disturbed at Marley's constant concern for her well-being, Santana just snaps, "Fine."

Marley's eyes narrow at her tone, and Santana just rolls her own by default. Santana takes the distraction as an entrance.

"Break time," Santana announces, throwing down her pen. "Give me five minutes, I'll bring back some coffee."

Marley, still frowning – which is like, get over it, Santana is short with everyone, that's life – abandons her books, too, sitting up and nodding.

When Santana returns from downstairs with two mugs in her hands, she finds Marley scrutinizing her picture board, faint smile present on her face.

"One sugar, shitloads of milk?" Santana hands Marley her mug.

"You're amazing," Marley says, greedily grabbing the mug, and okay, that's hella fucking excitement for a simple cup of coffee.

"I wanted to run something by you, actually," Santana says, sitting cross-legged on her bed as Marley sits in her seat by the desk again. "What do you think about becoming a full-time Cheerio?"

Marley frowns at her over the edge of her mug. "I don't understand."

Santana's tried to come up with a decent excuse and hooking point the whole afternoon, but the best she's been able to compose is, "Sue's looking to recruit a vice-captain, and I thought about putting you up for the job."

"Uh, that's... That's great, Santana, but, uhm, _why_?"

Once again Marley leaves her speechless by not reacting like a typical teenage girl about things. Fucking _alien_, again.

"The thing is," Santana starts, dodging Marley's question instead, "Sue only really trusts people fully committed to the Cheerios. I think stepping away from glee might be the step she needs to recognize the dedication."

"I don't think I can do that," Marley says, tone questioning.

It's not a no, and so Santana decides to turn the influence up a notch.

"Glee is dying, anyway. With Lance Bass and friends already on Cheerios, it's like the better glee already," Santana presses. "So, you'll still be with all your mates."

"Santana..." Marley looks apologetic. "I really like being on the Cheerios and totally appreciate you sticking out your neck for me, but... Like I said, I think it's always going to be glee for me, so..."

Santana panics, because Sue is counting on her, and her, and then she takes the first step into manipulation central.

"Come on, Marley," Santana tries. "You don't want to go back to being the simple slushied lunch lady's daughter, now do you?" Santana knows the faux sweetness in her voice doesn't take an ounce of bite out of that sentence.

Marley doesn't answer for a long moment. When she does, Santana almost slaps her, telling herself the impulse to do so is on account of being really tightly strung lately, instead of the surprise of being addressed in such a way.

"What is your problem, Santana?" Marley asks slowly.

"Excuse me?" Santana says, voice low, hair rising.

Marley puts her mug down on the table and runs a hand through her hair, persona making a complete one-eighty, and Santana just sits there, stumped at the development. When Marley speaks, the ordinary kindness in her voice is replaced completely by a strangely hard tone that seems completely out of place coming from such a gentle face.

"You know, I can't figure you out," Marley huffs. "One minute you're all friendly and then you're manipulating me into doing what you want... I– Are you _threatening_ me, right now?"

Santana, pressure finally coming up to press at the surface, "I'm offering you an opportunity here. We're friends, after all. I'm just looking out for you."

Marley actually has the nerve to laugh then. "Are you daft, Santana? You clearly don't know what the hell a friend is."

Santana stands up, then, placing her mug down, too. God, she's just been waiting to let off some steam and get rid of at least a fraction of the agitation inside her, so. Marley better fucking watch herself right now.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are, Rose?"

Marley just sits and looks at her coolly. It pisses Santana the fuck off. Even more so when she simply replies, "I know exactly who I am, Santana. I don't flip and flop everyday in the chase of stupid popularity."

Santana crosses her arms. "You better–"

"You're such a coward, Santana," Marley says suddenly, and that shuts Santana right up. "You haven't even said that you're sorry, you know? For slushying me. And basically choking me in the mission to join your team. The sad thing is, if you had just asked me nicely to join, I would have considered it, you know? But no, you're always just tormenting everyone instead.

She needs Marley to _stop_. Santana knows that she sometimes craves the attention for the power that comes with it, but these things Marley notices, it's all the things Santana tries to cover up, Marley's spotting all the little cracks in her instead, and..

"You're so smart and talented and yet all you care about is how people see you and it's so _tragic_ to watch, you don't even understand."

"Stop it," Santana warns.

Fuck, she needs to stop. Stop, _stop_. She really does, because Santana's about to break, she can feel it.

And God, she's always been so reserved when it comes to taking on Marley, and so, fuck, never having gone Lima Heights on her, Santana doesn't even know what she would do if–

"You can't just torture me into doing what you want, okay? Just expecting everything to happen when you want it and for everyone else to dance to your own tune. You know, you can't just _bully_ people whenever you don't get your way."

She's not even fucking attacking Santana, her voice completely level, but the bluntness of it all makes it seem like a right pummelling, and shit, no one has ever had the guts to stands up to her like this, and it's...

"You know what, Santana? If you would just act like yourself for once– But you're _afraid_, aren't you?"

It's not her fault, that there's something extraordinary alluring about Marley when she's like this, all strong and captivating, much like when she sings, and it's such an outer body experience being berated like this, which Santana is sure is the only reason she is actually allowing it to happen right now.

"You're just so damn afraid that–"

Santana only realizes what's happening, why Marley's stopped talking, when she actually feels like she tastes the bitterness of the words she just swallowed by covering Marley's mouth with her own.

(And seriously, of all the ways to shut Marley up, _this_ is what she's going with?)

It's just a press of the lips, really, but Santana's eyes have shut and it suddenly like she feels Marley all over her, and the whole thing, as much as it is satisfying, is just _terrifying_.

Fuck, she's an idiot.

When the reality of that thought and the situation catches up with her she pulls away violently, almost staggering back completely. Her eyes dart open and as soon as she sees the astonished expression on Marley's face, her whole body goes into shock mode.

Marley's fingers come up to her lips, like she's also not sure what just went down, and Santana balls her hands into fists, presses her eyes shut tight.

She opens them again; nothing's changed.

Marley looks at her questioningly, but also still with that softness she always has, like she's just honest to God trying to understand. She tries, softly, with a faint, "Santana..."

But Santana's already storming past Marley to her en-suite, barking, "Get out," on her way.

Santana locks the door behind her and falls back against it immediately, sinking to the floor.

Marley tries, at the other side of the door, but after a while Santana hears silence, and after that, she hears the front door close.

It's on the bottom fucking floor of her house, the sound from up here barely more than a faint snap, but to Santana, it resounds like a gun shot.

–

She's freezing from sitting on the tiles by the time her mom comes looking for her at dinner time.

Her voice is a croak, announcing that she's not hungry and she's just gonna take a shower now, thanks, and her mum, bless her, despite the worry in her voice, just lets Santana be.

It's cliché, she thinks, that she turns the water to scalding, but so is her life right now, with the stupidity she seems to encounter at every corner. She's more than disappointed when she reflects that all that stupidity mostly comes from herself.

She climbs into bed early, warm from the shower but still shivering all over, and shit.

_Shit._

Santana closes her eyes, but that just results in flashes, and...

There's the smell of vanilla and citrus, together, and then also, her hand grabbed at a neck, maybe? And the skin under her fingertips was softer than anything she's ever... There was an intake of breath, which she felt on her lips, and then there were the actual lips themselves, and the press of them against her own, hard and swift and surprising, was somehow still so tender and smooth...

The most alarming thing of all, though, is the way it lit her body on fire.

(Even more so, how the age-old itch under her skin feels evaporated, somehow.)

Her fingers come up to touch her lips, thinking about how... How _she_ did the same thing, after... And it's like, if she can think really hard, she can still imagine what it felt like when the...

It takes about two seconds for her to get out of her bed and climb in her mother's car, breaking about seventy speed limits on her way, she's sure. She climbs into Puck's window and barely gives him a chance to greet her before unbuckling his belt and giving him what must be the best fucking blow-job of his entire life.

"Santana," he says, after, hoarse and looking like he's trying to regain his vision, and she just works him up again and strips out of her dress, telling him to, "Shut the fuck up and fuck me."

She turns around and lets him take her from behind, closes her eyes, and tries to forget.

Puck tries everything he can, but Santana doesn't even come close to getting off.

–

She opts for skipping school the next day.

(Maybe Ma– Maybe _she_ was right, maybe Santana is a coward.)

Brittany and Quinn come over after school, Brittany concerned because Santana wasn't home when Brittany came over the previous night, and Quinn concerned because her baby hormones are making her maternal and crazy.

They catch her up with work and she's wholly disconnected and uninterested in anything they have to say. She feigns and plays it off as sickness and they accept it, and after an exhausting afternoon of fronting, they finally leave her alone to her dismantling thoughts.

When she returns to school, she feels fear while walking through the halls for the very first time.

She's spared from homeroom when Sue drags her into her office, telling her that she can cool it on the turning front, since Sue didn't have the best luck with Hummel either, and then mentions something about underestimating loyalty to a garden gnome, by which Santana assumes Sue means Shuester.

"Also," Sue says, "students apparently have some type of authority over their extra-curriculars, or something, and then Hummel started spouting something about _human rights_, which, by experience, is probably some ridiculous Broadway number I've never heard of."

Sue dismisses her, and then it's back to facing those menacing hallways again.

–

Her day gets in increasingly worse in glee.

Not just because, well, obviously Marley is there, and it sucks just as many fucking hairy balls as Santana expects it too, but because of fucking Aretha, stealing _her_ man.

When Puck sings that goddamn song to Aretha of all fucking people, Santana is first of all insulted, and second of all fucking furious. She doesn't want Puck in any shape of form, but he _is_ her back-up arm candy, and she doesn't like watching that option flying out of the window right in front of her.

There's too much shit happening all at once, and Marley keeps trying to look at her with those same fucking doe-eyes she had when Santana stepped into the room, and by the end of the longest fucking hour of her life, Santana just about bulldozes people out of the way to escape this goddamned shitting choir room.

–

Brittany notices, and forces Santana to a girl's night at her house – "Take a break from the blackness of your room for a bit, San, it's creeping into your eyes" – and so here is she, painting her nails, but not feeling any fucking better, surrounded by blackness or not.

Brittany's just been letting her seethe in silence, but now she's reaching over to take Santana's hand in hers and applying her nail polish for her, because she knows Santana tends to get her right hand all wonky sometimes.

By the third finger, Brittany opts to go for the kill.

"I've been helping Finn with some things, you know?" she starts conversationally. "He's had some serious problems with Kurt lately, but then we talked to each other a lot, and it really helped him. Like, it's fun, doing that. Making out is fun, too, but I think the talking part is sometimes even better."

Santana sighs. Brittany is as transparent as air.

"What is it with you and feelings lately?" Santana asks.

Brittany isn't bothered by her harsh tone. Instead, she says, through a smile, "They make everything better."

Santana scoffs. "I beg to differ. They fuck everything up."

Brittany finishes her last finger but then just kind of keeps holding on to her hand, running a thumb over her wrist. "Maybe if we talked to each other, it could help you, too?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," Santana says, so sudden that it takes even her by surprise.

Brittany doesn't say anything, just keeps on holding her hand, even though the paint is halfway dry. Santana just lets her, sitting in the silence and comfort, things around her stopping their spinning for a little while.

When they get into their pyjamas, later, after watching a movie, Brittany climbs into bed next to her and says, "I just want to help you, honey."

She switches off the light, and Santana lies there dumbly, until–

"Santana, what are you doing?"

Brittany looks up at her where she sits, straddling her hips, and Santana doesn't speak, just leans down and kisses Brittany, hard and sure. Brittany, having never been kissed by Santana before, lets Santana do it for a moment, completely caught by surprise.

It's the same, for Santana. She feels it, the fact that a mere kiss with Brittany is more than anything ever's been with any member of any fucking McKinley team. It's the same as... the other night, and it's paralysing, because there's really only one common denominator between Marley and Brittany, and if–

No, Santana thinks. She just shuts off her brain and presses into Brittany harder, opening her mouth and slipping her lips over Brittany's in earnest.

But Brittany's always been the stronger one, and it's not long before she's being pushed away, powerless to stop the action and keep on with what she was doing.

"Santana," Brittany says, softly and slowly, "please tell me what's happening to you?"

Santana isn't one for crying, even in moments like these when she feels nothing less than hopeless, and so she just climbs off Brittany and turns her back on her.

It's not long before Brittany's spooning her, holding her tightly, and whispering, "It's okay, I'm right here," and other sweet things right in her ear.

Santana just gives in, wondering what's happening herself, and why these great things – the captaincy, the top dog position, ruler of the fucking universe, really – she's built for herself are crumbling down so fast before she's even gotten a chance to stop and enjoy them.

She shudders to think that it was never meant for her to begin with.

–

She doesn't end up getting a chance to sing her song in glee.

Good thing, too, because with how things are going, lately, it looks like she doesn't know that much about herself, anyway.

Instead, she takes the chance to show the club what she's really about – being hot and in demand, and winning shit.

It's fun getting to put her voice along a great one like Aretha's and realizing that she actually can hold her own to that powerhouse, and she also comes up with a great new nickname for Aretha, or _Wheezy_ now, on the spot, so all in all, The Boy Is Mine is a good one.

The only thing ruining it was fucking Marley Rose sitting in the back, scrutinizing every move Santana made. Or so it felt to Santana, because every time she accidentally made eye contact with her, Marley's eyes were trained right on her face.

And the reaction Marley had to the entire show Santana put on, that fucking _look_...

There's a lot of things Santana can deal with in her life, but that isn't on the fucking list. And of all the things she needs right now...

Marley's _pity_ isn't one of them.

–

Mercedes quits glee, and Sue takes it out on the squad.

Santana's thankful for the burn in her joints, because it keeps her focused enough to take her attention away from all her immediate surroundings.

She's also thankful that it has a similar affect on Marley, who for once stops fucking _looking_ at Santana all the fucking time, too engrossed in her own battle against Sue's fitness regime.

–

As nationals approaches, Santana compartmentalizes.

Well, she's always had the knack for doing that, but this time it's even more intense.

There's cheering, which is going fine, and glee, which is, well, it's still a fucking coaster, who knows what will happen next, but she's used to it by now, so. There's her schoolwork that's not hard to handle, but it is heaping up and tests are multiplying like rabbits. There's Brittany and Quinn, and the three of them all just silently support each other while they feel like they're being crushed by school, and that system is nice and comforting, at least.

And then there's Marley, which is... avoidance central, mostly. Santana applies logic. It was stupid, a heat of the moment thing, and she's just not used to people being genuine with her for more than her popularity that it simply threw her off her game a bit. That's all.

So, moving on.

As much as she levels things out in her head like that, it all feels like a string coming unraveled. The lies she tells, mostly to herself, are coming apart at the seams. Certainties turn into questions – "maybe it was just because it's Brittany" is suddenly "was it because Brittany is a _girl_?" And "popularity is priority" gets second guessed upon thinking "why is Brittany so goddamn happy with that tool, giving no fucks about what anyone else thinks?"

She goes through the every day motions to the best of her abilities, but honestly.

She knows she's barely hanging on, and she doesn't know how long she can do it for.

–

In chemistry, their teacher reminds them their projects need to be handed in this Friday.

Marley's presence is like a flame at her side, and Santana keeps her eyes steady on her teacher, until he gives them the last twenty minutes of the period off so they can finalize any arrangements they need to with their partners.

Which, fuck.

She makes it a whole ten minutes staring resolutely into her books without moving a muscle, before disaster strikes.

"Santana," she hears from her side, and she closes her eyes and breathes deeply through her nose. "I– The project... We need to–"

"Yeah, I get it," Santana hushes, still staring at her book.

After another minute, she closes it and digs into her bag, taking out the notes Marley left at her house after, well, after that thing that happened. She puts it on the table instead of handing it over, and seconds later careful fingers scoop it up from in front of her.

They work in silence for the most part, almost being done anyway, and if Santana's lucky, they can just polish the thing off now and never have to look at each other ever again.

But when has she ever been lucky?

"I'm missing the references for the third chapter," Marley says, and Santana, in a moment of weakness, shoots her a quick look and sees Marley frowning at her notes. She looks away before Marley can see her.

"I must have–" Santana starts, but then stops, knowing Marley realizes that Santana forgot it at home, because of – well, again, that _thing_.

Santana puts her head in her hands, groaning. "Can this day get any worse?" she mutters, mostly to herself, but Marley overhears.

Marley seems to take personal affront at that, though, saying, "It's not a thrill for me to still be doing this, either."

In an attempt to make some peace or some shit, Santana aims to bad mouth Sue's recent elongated practice hours that have cut into their study time. "Well, it's not like we couldn't have finished this sooner if–"

"Yeah, well, _that's_ not really my fault, is it?" Marley snaps, and Santana actually balks at the snide hidden there, and what Marley implies, obviously thinking of Santana's idiot move cutting their after-school study short the other day.

"Sorry," Marley says immediately, sincere. "That guy in glee really got to me, about our dreams and stuff, and it's been making me miserable," she tells Santana, even though Santana didn't ask and doesn't really want to fucking know. "And Tina is even sadder than I am, probably, and you know how it is when your best friend is sad."

Santana shrugs, and just looks back at their project instead. Some part of her wants to reassure Marley, but is afraid what that might mean, so instead she just says, "Give me the papers and I'll just work in the references on my own. I'll get it in tomorrow."

Marley mumbles some question about Santana being sure and Santana just waves her off, waiting for the bell to sound, completely done with the talking and interacting for now.

And possibly ever.

–

Sue's busy with Bryan Ryan so Santana is relieved from another third inquisition for a few days.

But now glee might get cut and Santana is actually fucking sad about it.

In her free period, she goes to sit in the choir room for long time, taking a moment to just _breathe_, thinking about how, maybe, she would miss this damn diva fest if it fell to the ground. She'd have no outlet, no way to – if she one day maybe worked up the courage – express herself through the art she's loved in secret for so long.

The peace doesn't last and the choir room door opens to reveal– Of fucking _course_.

"Sorry," Marley says immediately, upon spotting Santana in turn. "I can come back–"

"Don't," Santana says, standing up already. "I was just leaving."

"You don't have to," Marley says softly, and the words freeze Santana long enough for Marley to walk over to where she's sitting and take a seat next to her. "I just wanted to, I don't know, just in case..."

"Be here one last time?" Santana asks, then sits back down, because she was quite enjoying the freedom of the moment.

"Yeah," Marley breathes out.

Santana feels like she's torn between being in one of the most relaxing and stressful situations in her life. The choir room is peaceful and her stress is dulled somewhat with the prospect of glee nationals flying out the window, but right next to her is the source of about half of her trouble at the moment, sitting calmly as if completely unaffected by Santana's presence in return.

The weight of all the things left unsaid and unresolved between them is making her gnaw at the inside of her cheek and she starts hopping her knee, adrenaline slowly coursing through her at an increasing speed.

God, why is she so _aware_ of every fucking movement Marley makes suddenly?

She decides to start at the start, because maybe it can be the key to lessening the tension somewhat.

"I'm sorry I had you slushied, okay?" Santana says, as quickly as possible. "Can we just finish this shit now?"

Marley just nods, and then admits something totally out of left field, for seemingly no reason at all.

"I was thinking of leaving cheerios, you know, because of–" Marley pauses, and the unspoken _you_ fills the silence – "but then, maybe that Bryan guy's right, maybe I need to have a backup. Especially now that glee club might bite the dust."

Santana finds the distraction of the conversation takes her mind off whatever else was plaguing her, before, and she's secretly grateful.

"Perhaps," she says, nonchalant. She's still not really in the mood to talk, and just wants to enjoy her peace, still.

After a moment, she sees a hand reaching out for her in her peripheral vision, and looks to find Marley holding out her earphone to take again. She does, and can't help the smile that accidentally escapes when it's that damned Paper Kites song again, sure that Marley only put it on because she knew Santana would be listening.

–

Glee doesn't get cut – she should have fucking known the roller-coaster would come up again – and so that makes the time she spent with Marley in the choir room completely unnecessary.

But whatever, let bygones be bygones, and all that, plus, God is she glad glee wasn't cut, actually, because now she gets to do fucking Gaga.

Which – hell _yes_.

She's at Wheezy's – _Mercedes'_, Brittany's voice in her head tells her – house with Quinn and Brittany, working on making their costumes. They've had fun so far, and she can't be too mean to Mercedes after homegirl gave Q a place to land and shit, so after giving her a chance, she finds that Mercedes can actually be quite entertaining and nice to hang out with. Santana's not entirely mortified by how this Saturday afternoon turned out.

"Good Lord, Santana," Mercedes laughs as Santana holds up her lace piece to the light, "Do you actually _want_ to wear clothes to this week's lesson?"

Quinn and Brittany burst out laughing and Santana scowls good-naturedly. "Fuck off, Wheezy," Santana says calmly, 'cause she's not _that _nice, and then just returns her attention to her work again.

"Girl," Mercedes says, chuckling, "I thought Marley was joking when she said how bipolar you can be."

Santana goes cold.

"What?" she asks, trying to keep her voice level.

"You making nice with me one second and cursing the next?" Mercedes says, still smiling. "It's just a bit off-kilter."

Santana purses her mouth and says nothing else, because she shudders to think what it is that Mercedes might think she knows about Santana, and instead finds her hands shaking, unable to continue with her work.

Brittany, sensing Santana's distress, takes the attention on herself and says, "That's a bad word, Mercedes. I've found 'demented fairy' to be a much better substitute."

Mercedes frowns and smiles slightly at Brittany, but lets things be.

Santana barely finishes her costume before speeding home, trying not to crash into anything on her way, mind racing faster than the car ever can.

–

She wastes no time in dragging Marley into the Cheerios locker room the next day, making sure it's empty before locking the door behind them.

When Santana faces her, Marley's standing by the door, holding on to her bag and looking at Santana with confusion.

"What the fuck have you been telling people about me?" Santana spits out.

Marley frowns. "What?"

"Mercedes," Santana clarifies. "Spouting shit about me being fucked in the head, or something, a fact inspired by _you_, apparently."

Marley's confused expression goes back to that goddamned fucking look of pity, and all Santana wants to do is punch it off her.

"Did you _tell_ her?" Santana says, pushing closer to Marley, who just keeps looking at Santana with sadness in every inch of her expression.

"Santana, let's just–"

"_Did_ you?!" Santana says, even harsher, so far past done right now it's insane.

"I'm so sick of your attitude, Santana," Marley says instead, bluntly, pushing Santana back with a hand on her shoulder. "Can you just talk to me like a person for once, please? God."

Santana's fingernails dig into her own palms. The last time Marley went in this direction, things didn't go over so well.

"I didn't say anything," Marley says quietly, reassuring Santana being going to assertive mode again. "I just said you seem to be hot and cold by nature, and she shouldn't worry about you lynching her in her sleep, because of... Puck, or whatever."

Santana says nothing, even though she believes Marley. If she's hot and cold, apparently, she'd prefer to stay at 'hot' so Marley knows not to even try and fuck with her in the future.

"I just," Marley says, then brings a band up to tug at her high pony, "if you wanted to talk to me about–"

"Stay the fuck away from me," Santana growls, throwing open the door and slamming it on her way out again.

–

The problem is, when Marley comes in with her Gaga costume the next day, Santana finds it hard to take her own goddamn advice.

Their Cheerios outfits are pretty – well, they're tight, and don't leave much for the imagination, and Santana can admit that, recently, she has sometimes-kind-of-maybe looked at how Marley looks in them, for more reasons than doing captain check-ups. But this, Marley in tight stockings and a black little number that...

Santana wonders how much she really needs her eyes and how long she could go without them after gauging them out, because they are seriously betraying her right now.

Any... _attraction_, for lack of a better word, Santana feels goes right out of the door when Marley opens her mouth, though. Santana zoned out for most of the club's chatter, but her subconscious makes her tune in just in time for Marley to make some obnoxious comment on how it's impossible to ever keep up with _Gaga's_ annoyingly erratic changes, or some shit like that.

It's paired with a pointed look in Santana's direction, and Santana just rolls her eyes because apparently subtlety is not Marley's strong suit.

She performs the shit out of her part in Bad Romance, though, and so she forgets about whatever little spat is happening with her and her little Cheerio recruit right now, too busy with rocking the fucking house, of course.

Afterwards, Marley, for all the anger she seemed to be showing at Santana, is caught leaving her gaze on Santana's see-through laced waist for an inappropriately long time, and when she looks up to see Santana half-questioning and half-smirking at her, she flushes and quickly looks away.

How and cold goes both ways, then, Santana thinks.

–

If she thought glee being cut was bad, it's nothing compared to the prospect of losing the Cheerios.

It starts as a bit of a joke, the Cheerios all acting destroyed, mostly to get coach's attention so she can wake up and smells the fucking daisies, but after a while, when the days are numbered and nothing changes, it transforms into sheer panic.

Santana feels suddenly empty, because of there's no Cheerios, there's nothing giving her power, and there will be nothing protecting her if something ever were to happen...

But it won't, cause she'll still be on top of her game, top of the pyramid or not.

Right?

The only Cheerio not panicking into infinity is, not surprisingly, Marley fucking Rose, looking at her fellow cheerleaders with complete incomprehension. She just goes on with her days, quite unaffected by whether the Cheerios get to compete or not, and just.

Santana's always admired Brittany for giving so few fucks, but Brittany is already so popular that she can really do what she wants without fear of falling too far off the McKinley elite bandwagon. This fucking Marley chick, though, she's nothing in this school, really, and she still doesn't care, and that is something that fucking stumps Santana completely.

Not even Finn making a dick of himself, while trying to tackle funk with Puck and Wheezy, can fully get her out of her depression, but it's a good temporary distraction.

Brittany looks at Finn like he's the best thing she's ever seen, and Santana just smiles at her best friend.

"Your boyfriend is an idiot," Santana whispers to her during the performance.

"I know," Brittany says, clapping and still not taking her eyes off Finn. "I love him."

Santana almost falls off her seat, but okay. That was fast. Brittany's funeral, she guesses. Either way, Santana will hear all about that later, she's sure, if and when they ever get out of this hopeless Cheerio situation.

The pressure feeling is worse than ever, now, to the point it feels that it's restricting her airways and she permanently walks around imagining that she's drowning. She only really feels like she can breathe when Sue pops out on the field with a bullhorn at the end of the week.

And just, thank the everlasting motherfucking heavens above for that one. Santana won't even torture herself with picturing any alternatives.

–

They drive out to St Louis for nationals and book into a hotel for the night.

Santana's too worried about her performance to even have a serious freak out over the fact that – she's not even surprised this time, really – she's paired with Marley for a room, but yeah. In another world, one with less stress, she'd be screaming internally; now, she's just bothering her teammates with constant reminders about things they already know about the routine, but whatever. It never hurts just to be that extra bit prepared.

Her worry is in vain, though, because they take the trophy with a landslide, and God, she hates what Sue makes her do as captain at times, but this, holding onto Brittany while congregated around that massive ass trophy?

Few things compare.

In that instant, she finally, finally feels a significant chunk of her pressure sliding off her, feels herself entering the final stretch to the end of the year.

They sneak out that night, obviously, get blisteringly drunk and celebrate like bosses. Santana dances on the little dance floor in a random bar, thanking the heavens for her fake ID, and only goes home with the others when they can't feel their feet anymore.

When she stumbles into her room after assuring Brittany that she's fine to handle herself, she dives into the shower and gets dressed, miraculously not falling and killing herself in the process. She walks into her room, exhausted but oddly refreshed, and catches sight of Marley fast asleep.

Shit, Santana forgot to be quiet, but thank fuck she didn't wake the kid. Marley opted to just go to sleep and not celebrate, and whatever, her loss, Santana thinks.

Santana will blame it on the drunkenness, later, but for some reason, she finds herself sitting down on Marley's bed instead of her own, creepily watching Marley's sleepy figure for a few seconds.

(Marley is gorgeous, that much is obvious.

Santana just doesn't understand why she is fucking cursed with having to notice it in the way that she does, though. In a way that normal, sixteen-year-old cheerleaders definitely should not.)

There's a piece of hair hanging over Marley's nose and before Santana knows it, she watches her own hand as it pushes the hair behind Marley's ear, hovering to graze the back of her knuckles over Marley's cheek.

Then she realizes how fucking ridiculous and cliché she's being and pulls her hand back, darting forward to face-plant on her own bed. She falls asleep before she can do anything even more insane.

–

Winning cheer nationals is followed with even greater fucking developments; namely, getting to put Vocal Adrenaline right back in their fucking place.

Not only is what Jesse did to Rachel totally fucked up, but not even Santana was about to let that little performance earlier in the week slide.

(She's still angry at Puck for not letting her in on the tire-slashing, she could have let off some serious steam there.)

Like, she's not overly concerned for the midget's well-being, but Jesse is a serious fucknut, and no way is he going to get away with crossing into Santana's turf only to leave when it damn well pleased him with that self-satisfied little chipmunk expression on his face.

She enjoys getting to let loose with the club after all she's been through this week, she decides, and this – watching Quinn smile for a change and rock that baby bump like a pro, watching Brittany split so much Santana aches for her part, getting to be a bit funky herself...

It's pretty much a piece of heaven in her life right now.

–

The next Monday, Santana's getting ready for practice when Marley approaches her in the locker room.

"You're going to be late," Santana tells her. "You're not even dressed yet."

"Actually, Santana," Marley starts, and her tone makes Santana's gaze leave her locker immediately.

She looks down and only then sees Marley's uniform folded neatly in her hands, and, oh. She knows immediately.

"I've had so much fun this year," Marley says, "but I don't think I'll ever really be everything a cheerleader is supposed to."

Santana frowns, wondering what could have brought this on, and really only comes to one conclusion.

"If this is about..." Santana starts, but finds that she can't actually complete that sentence.

Marley smiles sweetly. "Of course not, Santana, it's just... When you asked me about glee and cheerleading, it's always going to be glee for me, you know? I think, next year, I want to focus more on singing and maybe even some theatre."

Santana sighs. "Yeah, whatever."

"I really enjoyed being bossed around the track by you everyday, though," Marley jokes, and Santana does actually crack a small smile at that.

"Yeah, whatever," Santana repeats.

She doesn't really know what she has to say now, because they're not really friends, and they're not really anything, really, and this feels odd, cause it's not like they're saying _goodbye_ or some shit like that, but still.

But as always, Marley seems to know exactly how to handle the situation.

"There's always glee," Marley says, and smiles at her gently.

"Yeah," Santana says once last time. "Whatever."

Marley keeps on smiling, like that's not at all what Santana just said, and Santana just shrugs and goes back to digging in her locker.

When she stops fiddling with shit she doesn't need, she turns to find herself alone, only Marley's uniform remaining on the bench next to her.

She sighs and picks it up, ignoring the fresh smell of citrus lingering on it all the way to Sue's office.

–

When Sue tells her about her newest glee-destructing plan – and this time, she knows it's _real_ – her chest damn-well near implodes.

–

Being in Mr Shuester's house is the weirdest, and the worst.

It's like a premature funeral of some sort, and it sucks, because they've honestly come so far, and God, for all Santana's complaints about the glee roller-coaster, she finds she's not quite ready to get off it just yet.

It gets even worse when Mercedes mentions how she and Puck would never talk to the others again if not for the glee affiliation, and then realizes that assumption is actually completely accurate. For some reason it makes her look over at Marley immediately, only to find Marley already looking back at her, the same realization crossing her face.

The end of glee means the end of more things than she realized, originally.

When they leave, Brittany tugs at her pinkie affectionately, but when she looks up, Brittany looks miserable. Santana just hugs Brittany's finger back, equally distraught.

Outside Mr Shuester's apartment, Tina's mum picks her up, and so does Brittany's, and then Mercedes and Quinn leave together, and pretty soon, Santana finds herself alone on the sidewalk with Marley. Santana's mom's car is just around the fucking corner, but God, this fucking club has gotten under her skin so bad, she's just putting off actually ending this night and what may just be one of the last few days of glee club.

Marley inches closer, pulling her jacket tighter around herself, and smiles at Santana hesitantly as she approaches.

"Your mom coming to pick you up?" Marley asks.

Santana nods and shakes her head almost at once. "Kind of."

Marley nods and they stand in the cool night air, Marley waiting for her mom, Santana waiting for... She doesn't know what, really.

When Marley speaks up, it's barely a whisper, but to Santana it's clear as Sue's fucking bullhorn right in her ear.

"I'm going to miss you."

Marley's mom chooses that moment to pull up to the curb and Santana looks over to where Marley stands, now watching her expectantly.

Santana just nods in greeting and walks away to her own car, never being so angry at her inability to express herself before.

–

Their setlist is tight and so over-practiced that when Tina screeches, "Enough! If we do this routine any more it's going to get _worse_!" at Rachel, everyone falls back in their seat, thankful for the break.

They decide to spend the rest of the lesson continuing their mourning, everyone opting to sing a song that shows how they felt about their time in glee club instead.

Some sing songs that profess their hopes for the club still making it – Rachel, Kurt, and Finn – while the rest spawn random inspirational shit about dreams or love and family.

Santana's surprised, when, after Mike and Matt dance out a powerful number, everyone's attention turns to her. She balks – she's not about emotion, she's already said she's just there to look hot.

But, Santana thinks, while can't be honest about most things, especially not in song where everything is so raw and true, there is one thing she's been better at admitting; glee club has wormed it's way into her fucked-up, cold heart and she hates herself for it on one hand, but also doesn't mind so much on the other.

It seems oddly fitting, when she grabs Brittany as a partner and they jokingly sing Joan Jett's I Hate Myself For Loving You to the club. The whole gang soon joins in and dances with them in the choir room. The secret of their affection for these bunch of losers is safe inside of these walls, Santana thinks.

It's one of the many things that make her feel safe here, that make her feel welcomed, and fuck if she doesn't regret taking it for granted all this time. If glee does get cut, she's going to feel sorry about not doing many things – maybe just one more dance, one more song, one more fun improv number.

Near the end of the song, she catches sight of Marley over the group surrounding her and Brittany, whose voice is also part of the chorus now, smiling wider when they make eye contact.

There's a lot of things that she'll come to regret, she thinks, and so she just sings and sings instead, biting back the sadness of it all.

–

Though they keep their hopes up, the atmosphere is tense backstage as they wait for their turn. They're excited, but they know that Sue Sylvester's out there in the audience somewhere, and they know it's gonna take a miracle for them to place. So, they'll just have to sing up a storm, is all.

When they get called up, Santana feels rather nauseous.

She watches Brittany kiss Finn before he goes to his position for his duet with Rachel. Then she hugs Brittany and Quinn before darting off to the bathroom for a last time before they need to hit the stage.

She splashes some droplets of cold water on her face, careful not to fuck up her make-up, and is surprised to find herself so incredibly nervous. But like, the good kind of nervous, luckily not the debilitating one.

Outside, she's surprised – but not really – to find Marley waiting for her in a secluded space in the wings, while everyone bustles around them. Wordlessly, Santana walks over to where Marley's standing, hidden from view from passersby.

"Hi," Marley says, and Santana just nods stiffly in return. "Okay there?"

Santana just nods again, trying to breathe, being this close to Marley.

"It's all going to be fine," Marley tries again.

"We did so good, though," Santana admits, "and now going up there feels so pointless."

"We can still win," Marley says, and by her tone, Santana's not quite sure what they're talking about anymore. "Just breathe," Marley adds, jesting now.

Santana smiles a bit at that, and feels that calm only Marley has been able to inflict on her return.

"Santana," Marley whispers then, serious.

Santana looks at her directly, gulps when she sees a hand come up, and then Marley's gently cupping her cheek, and Santana's paralysed. Marley leans closer to her, and then Santana's eyes close as she feels soft lips caress her cheek, and then it's over.

Marley leans back and pulls her hand away. She smiles at Santana as says, "Good luck," in that same gentle tone she always uses, and then she's disappearing down the corridor.

At that, Santana shakes off the last remaining nerves, and follows.

Then, she sings like a fucking boss.

–

"Of all the fucking times you could have chosen, Q, now's when you wanna pop one out?"

Santana holds Quinn's hand as she's wheeled into the hospital, and shit, that's a real death grip there, she would like to be able to do handstands in her future.

"Not really up to me, S," is all Quinn grits out before Shuester jumps in to wheel Quinn away and Santana gets lost in the haze of glee clubbers all stampeding through the hospital halls.

It's the strangest time in her life, sitting with the glee club and one her best friend, waiting while the other gives birth. She knew it was coming, eventually, but still. Just, wow, it's fucking _weird_.

After, she and Brittany go in first, looking at Quinn sitting on the bed with like, a baby.

A _baby_.

"Hey, Q," Brittany says, speaking for both of them, because she's the only one that can be appropriately soft in these situations.

They take a seat on the opposite sides of Quinn's bed, and Quinn doesn't spare them a single glance, eyes locked on the life in her arms. There's a comfortable silence as they just sit there and be, giving Quinn their silent support.

"She's magnificent, Q," Brittany says.

Quinn smiles that beautiful smile of hers, more content and proud than Santana's seen her in months, and not for the first time, Santana wonders if Quinn will ever really come out of this okay. She just rests her hand on Quinn's hip instead, hoping it sends her positive hopes over to her friend.

After a while, Quinn speaks up again, "You should go and see if we won."

"Sure?" Santana speaks up. "We can stay?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I'm good here. You guys should be there."

They nod and both place kisses on Quinn's temples at the same time, and Quinn chuckles before waving them away.

All in all, it's a better situation than Santana could have hoped for.

–

With the excitement of Quinn Jnr, they all momentarily forgot what's at stake today. But as they take the stage, with all those people looking at them and Sue dealing with some envelopes in her hand, it all comes back full force.

They're buzzing with energy, and when it's just them and Vocal Adrenaline left, not even the tight grip Brittany holds on her hand can keep Santana grounded.

Turns out it isn't necessary, because when they find out they don't place, Santana feels pretty fucking heavy about it. It's all white noise in the background, watching Vocal Adrenaline lift that trophy. After all their hard work, it's all for naught, and just.

This must be what being slushied feels like, Santana thinks, but only like, inside your soul instead.

She doesn't even try to hide how her eyes seek out Marley's, who is looking at her from the other side of the stage, crestfallen.

Santana feels like she loses something more than just a trophy, in that moment. She just doesn't know what it is.

–

The next few days are spent walking around McKinley in a daze.

The pressure inside of her is finally, finally gone. It would be grand, if it weren't replaced by an acute sense of loss instead.

She watches the glee kids being picked on mercilessly for daring to stick their necks out and failing at it to boot. Sure, she could stave this loss by just walking over and greeting them, but.

She's afraid she'll never really have the courage to do that outside of glee.

Quinn returns to school in her full glory, bent on nailing her finals, birth be damned. Santana, Brittany and Quinn share their sadness over glee, lucky that they don't need to mourn alone. Sitting at their lunch table, Finn suddenly pops up next to the three of them, wounding an arm around Brittany's shoulders.

"I'm so sad all the time," he says, voicing their thoughts, and they all just mumble in agreement. "I'm going to get seconds," he continues, pointing at the lunch line. "Want anything?"

"Fries, please," Brittany says sweetly, and Finn kisses her cheek before leaving.

Santana snorts. "Yeah, as if there'll be anything left over by the time he comes back."

Brittany scowls at her. "Promise me that next year you're going to make an effort with him."

Santana sighs. "Britt..."

"He really wants to be your friend, Santana," Brittany says, then pouts, and fuck.

"Whatever," Santana says. "Maybe."

Quinn raises a brow. "Why didn't you ever adopt this attitude when I was dating him?"

Santana shrugs. "Remember when you didn't understand the merits of a baby being named Drizzle?"

"It would have been perfect," Brittany interjects, "if you think about how..."

Quinn and Santana watch her go on a ramble that makes absolutely no sense to them whatsoever, but then Finn rejoins them with Brittany's fries and the two of them debate it together, completely on the same page, and Quinn and Santana are even more lost than before.

Santana looks at Quinn pointedly, nodding to the pair, "That's why."

The way the four of them just sit there, oddly comfortable with the new dynamics between them, gives Santana hope that things can maybe start getting back to some version of normal come junior year.

–

When they decide to sing to Shuester, it's basically like, the lowest the emotion-coaster has ever dipped to. It's like that last jolt near the end of the ride, rounding that one corner that makes your body jerk violently, the one that's the most likely to make the bile rise up.

Santana doesn't hate her teammates anymore, and she knows they're a true functioning unit, finally, and the fact that she can admit it out loud without even worrying about it, at last... God, it's a shame it all needs to end, now.

"I didn't have the courage to go after my dreams," comes Marley's voice from next to her.

Santana doesn't look over at Marley, not during the entire performance, either. She won't be able to handle it. She's already teary-eyed, and just lets go when they start singing, feeling everything just one last time.

Afterward, a crying Shuester thanks them and leaves the auditorium in tears, and everyone sitting there either starts crying harder or tries to recover. Santana's in the latter category, standing up and looking at everyone embracing around her. She wants to leave, she really does, but then sees Marley with her arm around Tina, and then decides _fuck it_.

It's her last chance, ever, and well.

She walks over to where they're standing and tugs on the side of Marley's jumper to get her attention. Marley turns away from her friends and when she sees who it is, she tries to smile, but it just comes out as extraordinarily sad. Marley looks at Santana with teary eyes that are so full of both sadness and affection that Santana can't take it.

Santana keeps her grip on the side of Marley's clothes and pulls her forward until she's close enough for Santana to wound her arms around Marley's neck, pulling her in close for a hug. Santana tucks her head against Marley's shoulder and breathes in her scent, and God.

Where their skin connects, Santana feels fire, and Marley's arms wrapped strongly around her waist is basically the best thing ever.

She knows she needs to let go soon, though, and she does so with a deep breath, smiling at Marley as tenderly as she possibly can, knowing Marley will see the effort in it even if it comes out less kind than intended.

Just so it doesn't look too weird, she nods at Tina and Artie in acknowledgement, too, then looks back at Marley one last time, just once more.

She has to force herself to tear her eyes away, but she manages, and then leaves the stage on shaky legs.

–

On the very last day of school, Santana's day ends with being called to one final glee meeting.

Santana's confusion is only heightened when she arrives to a packed room, the whole glee club already gathered and wondering what this meeting's for. If not even the biggest gossip queens in the school know, it must be something really interesting, at least.

When Shuester sits down in front of them, stretching out the anticipation, Santana's immediately annoyed, because here we go with the theatrics again, just one last time.

Then it fades away spectacularly quickly when he says it.

They have another year.

It's not over, not by a mile.

She's almost bowled over by Brittany and Quinn attacking her in her seat, and she responds in kind, squeezing them with all she has. And shit, all of this over a fucking showchoir, but whatever, she's happy, so screw it all.

This time, she spots Marley first, and when Marley scans over the room to find Santana looking at her, Santana receives a smile so blinding it'll be ingrained in her mind for the whole summer, she's sure.

–

"I'm so ready to chill by the pool with a cocktail," Quinn says, and Santana and Brittany raise their eyebrows at her.

"What?" Quinn says. "I just got my first proper taste of wine coolers before I was forced on a nine month break from alcohol. I'm due some karma."

It's a half-assed attempt at humour, but it looks like, with time, Quinn will bounce back from this, and so Santana just squeezes her shoulder, looking forward to the restoration the summer break will bring.

They stop by their lockers to empty it before heading to Santana's – that poolside cocktail does sound quite good right about now, Santana decides – and then they're on their way out of this hellhole.

Santana stops at the end of the hallway, though, and they frown at her in concern.

"Coming?" Quinn asks.

"Give me a minute," Santana says, backtracking down the hall already. "I'll meet you outside."

They just shrug before Brittany loops her arm in Quinn's and they start heading out. Santana smiles as she watches them go and then turns around to head in the opposite direction.

She finds Marley at her locker in the near-empty hallways.

Marley looks up as she approaches, then smiles and leans against the door of her own locker, watching Santana contently as she comes to stand next to her.

"So," Marley says. "One more year."

"One more year," Santana echoes. She shuffles her feet.

"You should enjoy your summer," Marley says then, taking two books out of her locker and slamming it shut.

They stand there for a minute, Marley looking at Santana expectantly, patiently, and Santana wonders how Marley just _knows_ that Santana's got something on her mind.

Well, she has one more year to figure that out, so.

She takes a deep breath.

"I would have missed you too, you know," Santana says, in what must be the most belated response in the history of man.

But either way, it's out there, and it's enough for now. Actually, it's almost too much, but Santana throws caution to the wind, knowing that the reprieve of summer lies head to recover from the frankness.

"I know," Marley says casually, almost cheekily, and Santana jokingly rolls her eyes.

Marley reaches out and squeezes Santana's hand before disappearing down the hallway. Santana watches her go, then smiles to herself.

It's definitely enough, for now.


	2. First Summer

**If you want some wicked music to listen to, the incredible Lazarusgirl surprised me with a banging mix she made for this story, which I am beyond grateful for! Check it out here: 8tracks/lazarusgirl/with-purest-heart**

* * *

**First Summer**

_You have always longed to wander_

"San?" sounds Brittany's voice over the speaker. "Can you hear me?"

"Just about," Santana replies, craning her neck on the rock she just got on in the small hope that it'll help somewhat. "Better?"

"Yeah, actually."

A fucking rock. Santana holds dead still.

"Right, I'll just stay here then."

"Where are you?" Brittany's voice is less faint, so at least the connection works both ways.

"In the middle of fucking nowhere, obviously."

"San, it can't be that bad."

"It is when there's shit all reception," Santana says, careful about slipping on her standing place, and also keeping an eye out for snakes.

"So, what have you been doing up there?"

Santana's on summer holiday with her parents. They never fucking go anywhere and usually leave Santana in peace, but this year her dad has to be at a conference and they decided to make a _family break_ out of it, or some shit. Now she gets to spend about two thirds of her entire vacation sweating it out at this summer resort in the middle of the goddamn mountains – without any fucking reception to boot – somewhere near Roanoke.

"Meh," Santana says. "Tanning. Reading. Not much to do, really."

"I wish I could come explore with you," Brittany says.

Santana eyes the nature around her. Not her greatest desire, but if Brittany would have been here it probably would have been a different story.

"Have you made any friends?" Brittany asks.

Santana laughs. "Of course not, who are you talking to?"

"I know," Brittany snorts over the line, "but I mean, is there at least someone for you to spend time with, if you wanted to?"

"There's this guy whose dad made friends with mine, so we hang out at times."

"Is he hot?"

"I guess," Santana says, 'cause he's got an adequate face and is like, on board to become some athlete in his future, apparently, so he is obviously quite influential back home. Her calibre of person, really.

"And..." Brittany coaxes.

"And what?" Santana says, already bored with the conversation, shins aching from keeping her balance on this godforsaken rock. "What's happening in Lima?"

"The Santana Lopez I know wouldn't let that one pass her by."

She has a point, Santana thinks. Now Santana probably has to work on that. Sigh. She shouldn't have said anything to Brittany to start with, really.

"I'll have him begging by the end of lunch, probably," Santana says, because that's more _like her_, surely?

Brittany laughs. "There she is." Then, a shuffle from the other end. "Finn says hi."

Santana groans.

"San," Brittany says, and Santana can almost hear the pout. "Lima is fine. We're having a glee barbecue later, which is exciting, and everybody is seeing a lot of everyone else, so that's good."

Santana's heart beats just that little bit faster.

"Yeah?" She asks, trying to keep her voice level. "Who's coming?"

"Usual. It's me, Finn and Quinn, obviously. Puck's not coming, of course. Mercedes, Kurt, Rachel... Tina and Mike are at some camp, but Artie and Marley are coming, and maybe Matt. I don't know, no one's heard from him."

Santana decides to focus on something else before her mind gets lost on other thoughts. "How's Q doing?"

"It's... Day by day," Brittany says, and Santana doesn't know if that's good or bad, and guesses Brittany is just trying to spare her either way, knowing Santana feels hopeless. Santana hates that she can't be there for Quinn right now.

Santana's phone beeps in her ear. "Ugh, Britt, my phone's going whack again, I've gotta get going."

"Summer's no fun without you," Brittany says.

Santana can't agree more. They've never spent a summer apart as long as they've known each other.

"Just a few weeks more, B," Santana says, but she feels the emptiness of the words, and they don't make it any better.

"Boo," Brittany says. "Okay, call me whenever you can."

"I really did not like hiking all the way up here," Santana admits, "and I swear to God I feel some fucking Wrong Turn mountain man eyes on me right now."

"Okay," Brittany sighs. "Maybe just try in some weeks or so, at least."

"Yeah, I'll try to let you know. Let's pray for the text to send again."

"Look after yourself," Brittany says. "And enjoy the sex."

"Rude," Santana jokes. "But you too."

"I will," Brittany says, likes she's commenting on the weather. "Love you."

And then she hangs up, knowing Santana won't say anything back, and Santana sighs as she puts the phone down.

She watches the signal bars on her phone flickering. It's strong enough to make a call, if she wants, but really, she doesn't have the number she needs, so.

She sighs, getting off the stone and starting the long trek back to her resort.

–

To say Santana hasn't thought much about Marley would be somewhat of a lie.

'Cause it's basically been on her mind every single day.

It's stupid, because, like, even when Santana reflects, none of the pieces really add up. A year has passed that should have just been another ordinary school term, kicking ass and taking names, but now... Things changed so drastically without her even having the slightest bit of control over it, and she doesn't know how well she's equipped to process everything.

Santana feels like she's still spinning from it all, even now, and whenever she so much as thinks of Marley Rose, there's this big swelling in her chest that simultaneously warms and freezes everything inside of her, which, well.

That shit hasn't ever happened to her before, and to say she's confused would be making light of the situation in a big way.

There's just something about Marley that intrigues her, that makes her want to know more, that makes Santana's mind just seem to go back to Marley day after day in this tiresome place.

At night, getting into bed, her iPod lulls her to sleep as she listens to that goddamn song Marley played to her before, getting stuck over and over on the repeating lines, _Can I be close to you?_

Which about sums it up, really.

–

"Do you ever leave this poolside, Lopez?"

When Santana tilts her head upwards, she sees an upside-down Jason smiling down at her. Santana smirks at him, thinking back to her conversation with Brittany, and how she should probably turn up the seduction factor if she's going to take a decent story back home with her.

(It's still so easy for her to compartmentalize, Santana thinks. Going to sleep thinking of another _girl_ somewhere out there in the universe, then waking up and putting on her mask, ready to treat this poor soul in front of her to the ride of his life.)

"It's where all my best qualities can be put on show."

"Touché," Jason says, sitting down on the deck chair next to her, eyes quickly flicking over her body appreciatively. This isn't even going to be hard. "You ever going to get into the actual pool at all?"

She's been flirting with him like this since she got here, it's just like second nature to her. But she knows that she can only keep it up to a certain extent before she needs to cash in. It's the law of universe – girls can only have so much fun before they're accused of being teases, or prudes, or even worse, as girls who might like other–

No, Santana thinks. She only has enough energy to deal with the present, right now. It's her vacation time, after all. That pressure has finally left her, and she's not about to invite it back just by _thinking_ too hard.

"You wish," Santana says, using her huskiest tone of voice, the tone that suggest that her words mean the exact opposite of what she's saying. "I see no drink for me in your hand to be making such requests, anyway."

He smiles at her before getting up and bowing exaggeratedly. She mutters a joking, "Fuck off," that just makes him laugh as he walks away to go get her a drink.

He really has been such a fun person to hang out with, and she probably would have enjoyed his company so much more if it weren't for the weight of the expectation that she knows rides on the back of every interaction they have.

–

It's in their third week of staying there that it happens.

Her dad has entered a serious bromance with this guy he plays golf with like, every day. They're like the adult version of her and Brittany, and it's hilarious to watch two old men act like teenage girls after a good day on the course.

She calls him her uncle Derek, and he tends to fawn over her any chance he gets, because Santana can't help it, she just usually has this way with older people that aren't her teachers. This fawning includes buying her shit whenever he picks her dad up for a game, which is all the fucking time. In short; her _uncle Derek _is the fucking boss.

Santana and her mom are grabbing a cocktail from the bar, away from the pool for a second, when her dad and Derek stroll into the lobby, all _giggly_ and shit, and Jesus Christ. Her dad is such a frigging nerd, but like, in an endearing way, of course.

Then another man joins them and Santana's dad clasps his hand with the same air of familiarity as Derek, laughing at something together. Her mom greets the guy – Ben, Santana hears – with a kiss to his cheek and everyone is all smiles. Derek comes over to Santana immediately, doing that fawning thing again, and Santana just rolls her eyes, without really meaning it.

"Ben, this is Santana," Derek says, and even when he introduces her, his manner is gushing. For some reason, Ben looks equally delighted. Santana would rolls her eyes, but she likes Derek too much to do so.

Ben shakes her hand and kisses it with much show, and then Derek is the one to actually roll his eyes at the gesture.

It's all so disconcerting and out of left field for Santana that she just kind of watches the entire scene with awe, absentmindedly reaching for the drink the bartender finally sends her way.

"Anyway, we better be off, rematch tomorrow, Lopez," Derek tells her dad, and then he and this Ben guy leaves, but not before–

Oh.

Derek kisses Ben solidly on the mouth before they walk, hands tangled together, not a care in the world other than the man at their sides.

Her dad, ever the joker, takes this moment to comment on the shock that must be clearly written across her face.

"Oh, come on, honey," her dad says, bumping her with his hip. "It's still Derek. Don't be such a head cheerleader about it."

She groans. The head cheerleader thing has been a running joke in their house ever since she got the job, and Santana loves it, but then she also despises it.

(She doesn't allow his words to let her have any sort of feeling of relief whatsoever. Compartmentalize, she reminds herself. It's easy to comment on issues when it's far removed from your own life – from your own _family_ – and so she knows words are just words. She got her knack for such compartmentalising from somewhere, after all.)

Santana chooses not to comment, and just watches them go. She can't help but be cautious for their part, so aware of every single eye that might do a double take when they pass by, that, Christ, she's on edge and it's not even her own fucking concern. She wonders how they just do that, go about their business without being bothered or wary about anything at all.

It's in these moments, where Santana really considers just what she's doing in the grander scheme of things, that she just... Living like that...

That's just not Santana. And it never will be.

–

"Got any interesting places you can show me around here?" she asks Jason later, while they're at the gym together. They've just finished up their spinning session and are heading for the treadmills.

"Like what?" Jason asks, setting his towel and water on the machine.

"Wherever," Santana says, starting on a slow rhythm, looking over to Jason with a raised eyebrow. "Somewhere... _secluded_."

Jason gets the message immediately, and then grins at her before they start a slow pace on the treadmills, abandoning the talking in favour of their running. Every now and then, though, Jason still looks over at her to trow her another grin or two, and well.

Sometimes, her flirting game is just too strong.

–

"And Santana Lopez is back," Brittany says, later, when she's on that damned rock again, having told Brittany about the snagging of Jason.

"'s how we do," Santana answers simply. And then, because it's been plaguing her since they spoke last, she asks, "How was the barbecue?"

"Awesome," Brittany says, smile evident in her voice. "Quinn said to say hi, and also, randomly, Marley wanted me to say hi, too."

There it is again. The simple mention of a name that gets Santana's heart beating faster, just like that. There must be something so intensely disconnected in her brain, it's insane.

"Oh," is all Santana can muster. "Yeah. Uhm. So, er, dancing classes, how're those going?"

Brittany is silent for a moment, and Santana panics, but then it looks like Brittany lets go of whatever she wanted to say, and takes the distraction bait.

"Good," Brittany replies, and then rattles on about her summer classes and the cool new things she's learning at them.

While she was calling Brittany, she heard some texts coming through on her phone, finally having gotten reception out here. When she ends the call, she sees a few texts from Quinn, sending regards and just general _I'm still alive, I hope you are too_ kind of texts, and some from Puck that were clearly sent while drunk and horny. There's even one from Finn, saying hello, so obviously trying to get on her good side for Brittany's sake that's it's as endearing as it is hilarious.

Then there's two from a completely unknown contact.

_Hi. Brittany gave me your number, if I wanted to say hi. So, hi! - Marley_

Santana kind of freezes as she reads it, simply because the emotion rising up in her is so damn unfamiliar that she honestly has no idea what to do with it. So, she just opens the second text instead instead of dealing with that.

_That was lame. Sorry. Anyway, I know you probably won't get this till you get home, but now you have my number, too, I guess, if you wanted. Or not, but okay. I just wanted to say hi, again. I'm going to send this now in fear of turning increasingly lamer as the message goes on. Enjoy the resort!_

Santana snorts. She realizes she's smiling, at fucking _words on a screen_, and then turns her phone off and pockets it.

Amusing or not, it's just too unexpected, too soon, too much of everything at a time when she thought she'd get a break from it all. She'll reply – maybe – but much, much later. (If ever.)

She's simply not ready.

–

Jason's idea of secluded is a picnic just outside the borders of the resort, which is all expensive champagne and lanterns and great food and a blanket and the works, basically. And it's not too _nature-y _for Santana too freak out to boot. Which; impressive. Santana approves.

He entertains her with stories while they eat, actually, honestly making her laugh throughout all of it, and it's nice, Santana thinks. He makes her feel relaxed in a way she can't really be with all the boys back home, when she knows that her performance will only become something that her partner with regale his friends with, later, so she's permanently thinking about how she has to be on form all the time. With Jason, she can just let go, and it's pretty refreshing.

After dinner, he sort of looks shy about what to do next, and Santana just smiles at him, amused, before putting a hand on his neck and pulling him over for a kiss.

It's not long before she's pushing him on his back and straddling him, happy to disconnect their lips and start stripping them both from their clothes. She does it quickly, surprised to find herself actually slightly wanting of it.

She realizes the last time she had sex was with Puck, eons ago, the same night she... Well, the same night as like, that _kiss_ thing, or whatever, and that was a long fucking time ago.

Santana tries not to think about _her_ while she's doing this, though, 'cause there's a time and place for everything, and all that. It's just that, Santana's so used to just sleeping around on the side, no matter what else she's focusing on in her life, so surely it can't be any different now, even with other things that have happened to her recently.

She guesses she can still indulge stupid ideas in the middle of the night, thinking about a certain glee clubber back home, but this, in the real world? Here she can still keep up appearances, unaffected, she's certain.

In fact, she's determined.

"Come here," Santana murmurs, then pulls Jason up so he can flip them over and hover over her, kissing him hotly before running her hand down his body.

She guides him to where he needs to be, and then he's inside her.

It gives her the excuse she needs to stop kissing him again, and then brings her hand up to tangle in his hair, guiding his head down to her neck, out of sight.

He moves slowly, and it's fine. Bar that one time with Puck, she hasn't had sex while fully naked in a long time, since she was last with Brittany, and there's just something about skin to skin contact that always makes it all much hotter.

Jason kisses her neck and then moves down to kiss and lick over her breasts, and she just closes her eyes and tries to get lost in the feeling.

Of course, it doesn't work.

She hasn't slept with anyone in a long time, that's true, obviously because of someone that she'd rather not think about while doing this, but her mind goes there regardless, suddenly fucking unable to do that nifty compartment trick it excels in.

Like, what the fuck, is she so _broken_ in even more ways now, that that isn't working either?

God, she hates it, that she can't even shut off in the way that she usually does, and instead, to make it worse, an image of Marley fills her head so vividly that she almost chokes on the breath she lets out as Jason starts moving faster.

Fuck, since when is she so out of it that she can't enjoy having sex with a buff guy like this, not even slightly, without thinking of another _girl_ while at it? Why can't she just be normal for like, five seconds?

"Santana?" comes Jason's voice, and she opens her eyes to find his face not kissing her chest or hidden in her neck anymore, instead, hovering over her own and looking down at her, concerned. "Shit, am I hurting you?"

"What?" Santana snaps, and is surprised to find her voice croaky. "No, just..."

She presses down on his head again so she doesn't have to look at him and so he can just get on with it, already, but he resists.

"Santana," he says, completely still now, worried and frowning. "You're crying."

Oh Jesus. She brings a hand up and wipes at her cheeks, and damn it, he's right.

"Fuck," she hisses, knowing this entire effort has gone to shit now.

These fucking_ feelings_ inside of her just spoil _everything_, for fuck sake, and she's just so...

So...

_Tired_.

"Are you alright?" he adds softly, and, well.

No, she's not okay, because she's so far from normal that she fears she might never get back, and if sex with this near-perfect guy isn't enough to reset the wires in her brain, then...

"Santana?" he says again, and Santana draws in a deep breath before pushing him off her and rolling onto her side, away from him.

Everything is ruined, and once again, Santana can feel it, she's about to break in some way, just like last time, and she's just powerless to stop any of it, really.

"Hey," he says, tenderly, and puts a hand on her arm, oh-so-softly, like she might just shatter at the touch.

And he's so fucking nice and _why can't she like him_ and now there's guilt on top of everything else, too, and before she knows it, sobs are wracking her body. Great. Santana Lopez, having meltdowns in the middle of sex now. Fantastic, really.

"Oh God, Santana," Jason murmurs, and then he wraps his arms around her middle and scoots in behind her, and she's so exhausted from all the emotions swirling inside her that she just gives up, and leans back into him, welcoming the little comfort she gets from having someone there.

He shushes her and mumbles nice things in her ear, and she just closes her eyes, tries not to think.

It doesn't work.

Much later, when Santana calms down, and the air gets cooler outside, Jason disentangles from her, hands over her clothes and they get dressed silently.

When they finish, he doesn't let her go, however, pulling her down so he can hold her again, now just making sure they're not freezing while they lay there. She faces him, finding some comfort in being able to press her cheek against his chest, his chin resting on her head. He's just so sweet, goddamn, and it makes her feel horrible again. Horrible enough that she doesn't even think about censoring herself for the next few seconds.

"I think I have feelings for someone else," Santana finally rasps out. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm sorry."

Jason sighs. "Don't be. I'm sorry, I wouldn't have pushed if... It's okay, though."

Santana nods against his. "It's... I'm just, I'm _sorry_."

"Really, I get it," Jason says softly, then kisses her forehead. "Who's the lucky fellow?"

Santana stiffens.

She thinks about how things change, when they're said aloud. And then she thinks about how Jason lives all the way in Delaware, and if there was ever a time to voice things, it would be when they could stay far away, in the long run. Where they can't come back to bite her in the ass, eventually.

Maybe Brittany was right, maybe talking about things can lessen the tightness in her chest somewhat.

Santana takes a deep breath, and tries not to be a coward, for once.

"Her name is Marley."

This time, Jason is the one who stiffens, but only for a few seconds before his hand comes up to rub at her back, wanting to mask his surprise.

"Oh," is all he says. "_Oh._"

"Yeah," Santana echoes, 'cause, well, that's pretty much the same reaction she's been having, over and over again, for the past few months.

"I still think you're awesome," is all he says, and she knows he's just trying to be nice about it, but whatever.

It makes her bitchy self return for a moment, but luckily she knows he knows her well enough not to be put off by it, so.

"I know, dumbass," she says, but the fire is gone from her voice, and he just chuckles.

"You're a really cool girl, Santana," is all he says, pulling her closer, and God, he's just so _nice_.

If he weren't a boy, she guesses, this would maybe have worked better.

Except, there's another unbearably nice person floundering about somewhere in Lima that's wholly infiltrated her thoughts lately, so in retrospect, even if he weren't a boy...

Santana thinks her mind would be otherwise engaged, regardless.

–

"What's the first thing you want to do when you get back?"

"Breadsticks, duh."

Brittany laughs aloud. "I'll make some reservations, then. Any other requests?"

Santana's finally going back to Lima this weekend, and she doesn't know. Something feels... _off_.

Like, even more than usual. She feels a want for something, like something is missing, maybe. She can't quite put her finger on it.

"I want..." Santana struggles to find the right words, "a _change_, I think? I want something to be different, for once."

"What, like a haircut?" Brittany asks, and Santana laughs.

"No, I don't know. Something just needs to change. Everything feels... I don't know. I'm tired of things the way they are," Santana says. "It has to be better than a _haircut_."

"A tattoo?" Brittany tries again.

"No," Santana says, everything suddenly clicking into place. "Something that will make me _better_."

Brittany is silent for a long time, again. She's been doing this mulling thing a lot, lately, Santana thinks.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Santana, remember?"

Santana sighs, because yeah, she remembers that particular conversation.

Instead, Santana just says quiet, thinking about the resolve she just came to.

After a minute, a drastic idea comes to mind.

It's so ludicrous, it might just work.

"I've got it."

–

"You sure you want to do this, San? You're beautiful just as you are."

Brittany insisted coming with her and they're waiting for Santana to be wheeled in to the operating room. Fine, Santana thinks, if Brittany wants to wait hours for her to get done, it's her choice, so.

Santana shrugs. "We have four weeks left of summer, and it only takes like, three to heal or something. So, I can be ready for Cheerios when we start up again."

"That's not what I'm asking, though."

Santana levels her with a glare. "I'mma have me some amazing knockers and be even more of a slayer than I already am at that school. What else do you need?"

Brittany purses her lips at her inquisitive, then looks at her seriously for a moment before parting her lips again as if to say–

"So," Santana says, to stop it from happening, "you know I'm going to be out for a while, right? Maybe even stay overnight. I don't think you should wait here."

Brittany looks even more confused now, and Santana just shrugs again and turns her head back to the magazine in her lap. Brittany's hand appears in her vision and gently takes the magazine away from her.

"Santana," Brittany says, taking Santana's hand after discarding of the magazine. "Please talk to me."

And really, in a waiting room with people scurrying about and a receptionist that's been giving Santana a disapproving look since she sat down and whatnot, Brittany wants to pull something now? Probably because she knows Santana won't run away.

Santana takes her hand away. Says nothing.

"You've been..." Brittany sighs. "I'm here, yeah? I'll never–"

"Santana Lopez?"

Someone with a clipboard stands in the entryway and Santana darts up faster than she ever has at a beckoning. She doesn't spare Brittany a second glance as she makes her way down the hall.

She's a shitty fucking best friend, and the knowledge that Brittany will wait for her regardless, that she'll be the first person Santana sees upon waking, after, well.

Santana doesn't know how she deserves that shit, even less how she'll ever repay it.

–

She's bedridden for days, just because she's such a pussy, and Brittany spends every day lying next to her in bed, rewatching the entirety of Sweet Valley High.

There's a whole four weeks left until school starts, but right now Santana doesn't feel like she'll _ever_ recover.

Brittany hasn't shown any signs of resentment towards Santana's attitude before the operation, and God, what type of person is Santana that Brittany's just so used to being treated like that? She's too drugged up to ponder her own inadequacies, though, barely being able to focus on the story unfolding on screen to begin with.

"Quinn hasn't texted me back," she says instead, looking at the blank screen of her phone once more.

Brittany glances over at her. "I don't know, I haven't heard from her either. She was around, then just, poof."

"I'm worried about her."

"Yeah, her? What about you?"

There it is. Santana's almost glad for the sudden animosity, 'cause at least it gives Santana something to work with. She wasn't quite so sure what to do with all the silent support she's been getting instead.

Even so, Santana doesn't want to react. Maybe there will come a day when she'll talk, but that's far too far in the future. She keeps on the topic at hand, both genuinely curious about Quinn and wanting to send a subtle message to Brittany by sidestepping.

"You think she could be having, I dunno– What's that thing where people get all depressed and can't hold their babies after birth and shit?" Santana asks.

"She doesn't have a baby to hold, San," Brittany says, softly.

They're both rather quiet after that, because that's one way to answer the question, now isn't?

–

When there's two weeks of summer left, Santana's a bit more mobile than before, but still sensitive as shit.

They're lying outside by the pool – Santana misses the quiet and luxury of the resort already – when Brittany's phone chimes.

"One more glee get-together before school starts," Brittany reads the text on her phone. "Kurt wants to know if we're game."

Finn, who has also joined them, sitting with sunglasses and swimming shorts, smiles dopily at the idea. It's such a weird sight; this guy Santana's come to know in his letterman and lumberjack clothes suddenly donning some surfer gear. It's super disconcerting, but it serves to make him oddly more approachable, and Santana doesn't know how, but somehow the increasing exposure she's had to him lately has made his presence in her life about five percent more tolerable than usual. His phone also squeaks seconds later.

Santana doesn't even wonder why she wasn't texted as well – she and Brittany are like a single unit, anyway, and it's not like any of those geeks will ever experience the honour of having her number. Well, except–

"I don't think I'm up for it, yet," Santana says.

She side-eyes Finn, who is under the impression that Santana's just had a two week long flu, which, honestly. She's in a fucking t-shirt and short-shorts outside with her bare feet hanging in the cool water of the pool. Really. He looks sympathetic at Santana's words as well, and Santana resists the urge to snort.

Brittany eyes her, but says nothing, on account of their guest. "Sure? We're still going, though."

"Go for it," Santana says, putting on her sunglasses and lying back on her towel. "Doctor said to avoid exertion, remember?" She pauses, then adds. "For the flu."

Finn reaches over and squeezes her shoulder, and Santana can't help it, this time she chuckles slightly.

It's not that she doesn't want to. Really.

It's just that she actually wants to, _so much_, and that's just so terrifying that, as always, it sends her running instead.

–

Santana rereads the text message on her phone. She's saved the contact now, simply named, _Rose_.

That's progress, right? Progress for what, she doesn't know, but progress regardless, she's sure.

She doesn't do anything else. It's almost time for school, anyway, when she'll be faced with so much more than just a text, and right now she has to spend her time bracing herself for that shit instead.

–

She only feels like a full functioning person again in the very last week of summer. She celebrates by going shopping for new lingerie to highlight her new assets.

When she runs into one of Puck's football buddies, she opts to ignore him, but he catches sight of her anyway, and she curses to herself.

"Lopez," he says, sizing her up and leaning against a wall with his arm, blocking her path. Santana almost laughs when she sees how he's trying to flex while at it.

"Can I help you?" Santana says, surprised to find her voice tired instead of biting. She's not the only one who notices.

"Summer sun turned the queen soft?" he enquires, and what, how did her image slip without her even being in the picture?

That's probably the thing; the break could possibly have swiped the full extent of her power from some people's minds, making them fully unprepared for her epicness by the time they return to school, and, well. She's not looking forward to rebuilding everything again at the start of junior year; here she was, naïvely thinking she'll just pick up where she left off.

She guesses she needs a little something that will prelude her entrance to the school on Monday, and then it'll be even easier to slip back into the persona she holds at McKinley.

"You live far from here?" Santana asks, trying not to sigh again and fluttering her eyelashes instead, and he grins.

When they're naked in his bed, later, he cups her breasts appreciatively – it's a bit sensitive, but the pain grounds her and keeps her focused – and mutters, "Yeah, wow, Santana."

She smirks, back in the game, mind shut down – finally – and gets to business.

And well, yeah, that surgery sure was a good fucking investment, overall.

–

The full weight of things hit her on Sunday.

Tomorrow, Santana will find Quinn and finally get answers on where the fuck that girl's been. She'll pick up her cheerleading crown again and introduce the freshman to the wrath and power of one Santana Lopez. She'll balance glee and Cheerios all over again, and sail through her classes like a boss.

She'll see Marley.

And...

And she doesn't know what.

She thought, with what happened earlier in the week, she was finally ready and able to compartmentalize again, but alas. Just the _preparation_ for school is leading to the regression of all her development, so she can't even imagine what actually entering school and _seeing_ Marley is going to do to her.

Santana sighs, and lays out her Cheerio uniform on her bed. She fiddles with the edges of the skirt and lets the red burn into her retinas long enough so she can still see it when she closes her eyes.

Right now, she's only certain of two things:

First, she's confused, and she's worried, and she's... _fluttery_, inside, when she thinks of seeing Marley again.

But second, she's also Santana Lopez, a name with so many connotations at McKinley high, and fuck the world if they think she's ever going to let them forget that shit.

Fuck it all, anyway, Santana thinks. She can juggle these two concepts, she knows. Even if she has to, for the whole year, for the rest of her high school life, she can do it. She's sure.

If she could just tell that to that fucking fluttering inside that intensifies by the minute, though, that'd be great.


	3. Junior Year

**Junior Year**

_Every step will take us further_

_From the place we used to know_

There are three things that seem to distinguish her first day back at school.

(Later, looking back on her day, Santana will wonder how her year's going to pan out with these incidents starting it all off, but they end up being so mismatched and unexpected that she really doesn't even know what to make of them, after.)

The first happens before classes even start. Santana just left the Cheerio room after preparing her locker for the term and is walking toward her first class when her body collides with someone who exits the girls bathroom.

Someone who, of course, happens to be one Marley Rose.

Santana luckily spots who it is before she launches into a tirade, and her irritation is instantly forgotten. Instead, she feels her face spread into a small smile that matches the one growing on Marley's own.

For a moment, they just stand there, staring.

Then Marley clears her throat, and says, "Hi."

Santana smiles even wider. "Hi."

"Hi," Marley says again.

They both chuckle, and Santana feels like she's not quite in her body, it all feels like she's in some foreign world.

Some random students briefly stumbles into her though, and then she remembers where she actually is. She tightens her hands on her backpack and nods in the direction of her class.

"I need to..." Santana starts, but then, not wanting to be rude, she explains, "I'm going to be late for homeroom."

Marley's eyes flick down the hallway and she nods. "Yeah, me too. Uhm, walk you?"

Santana gulps. The fluttering she felt the day before has now morphed into something that feels acutely like full blown cardiac arrest, and she wonders if she'll make it all the way to her class.

"Sure," she says anyway.

"How was your summer?" Marley asks when they start making their way down the hall.

For some reason, Santana's mind doesn't flick to the resort's spectacular sunsets or her days spent recovering from surgery, but instead to Jason and the football player of last week, and she flinches, for some reason.

"Uh, yeah, fine," she says, not really having the words. "Yours?"

"Good," Marley says simply. "Uneventful. I waitressed for a bit, which was nice. I heard you were sick?"

"Kinda," Santana says, and then something occurs to her. "I got your texts."

"Oh," Marley says. "Cool."

Santana looks over and sees the tips of Marley's ears turn red. She bites her lip and looks away.

"I was just... The resort had no reception and then I was bedridden and well, I'm sorry I–"

A hand perches on her forearm and it shuts her up completely.

"It's fine, Santana," Marley says kindly, then comes to a stop for some reason.

Santana looks up and realizes that they're already at her classroom, and she just hasn't noticed shit around her for the last minute, really. She looks at Marley, who starts walking back from where they came, and then realizes that Marley just came here because of Santana.

Like, she knows Marley said something about _walk you_, but she seriously thought they were just heading in the same direction or something, but.

Marley just actually _walked_ _her to class_.

Santana clutches her bag even tighter.

"See you in glee?" Marley asks, still backing away.

Santana can only nod in reply.

–

The second moment comes in glee.

_New York_.

It's basically the best news she's ever gotten in this club. Finally, something about show choir that's not totally lame. She's already looking forward to it so much, it's insane.

Other than that, Santana spends the whole period trying to get Quinn's attention, but it's completely in vain, and she and Brittany just throw each other other questioning looks during it all. Earlier, they just found Quinn when JBI accosted them in the hallway, and even during that small interaction Quinn was eerily distant, and from then on just went to full blown ignore mode.

Then Quinn does a one-eighty and performs with them like she doesn't have a care in the world, only to go back to ignoring them right after the song ends.

Brittany just shrugs at Santana, and Santana doesn't have any answers either.

Right now, her mind is just thinking _New York, New York, New York_.

–

The third is the most disastrous start to her Cheerio year she can possibly imagine.

Quinn's distance-mystery is revealed, which is, the bitchiest fucking backstabbing move in history.

She's called into Sue's office and sits down with a smile. Naïve, she expects to be briefed on her duties for the next twelve months and just get a general pat on the back for her efforts in playing Sue's right hand girl for the better part of last year.

Instead, she gets a lecture about body image and is not only stripped from her captaincy, but _demoted_ at that.

Which.

_Fuck_.

This is probably the angriest Santana's ever been in her entire life, and that's saying something.

She had her game plan ready, she saw, in her minds eye, how the entire year would pan out, and it's already going to shit, not even a full day in.

There's only two people bar her parents that know about her visit to the hospital this summer, and Brittany would never open her mouth, she knows.

Quinn doesn't even look repentant.

It makes Santana slap her even fucking harder than she originally plans to.

She walks away, satisfied, but only to the degree she can be while being just another ordinary Cheerio.

It won't do; not now that she knows what it's like to be at the top.

–

The rest of her week is spent nursing the pain in her back from basically being a pillar for every other goddamn Cheerio to stand on, and shit, she's never hated Quinn more.

She also catches up on the newest developments in McKinley life.

"Did you see Tina's dating Mike now?" Brittany asks her over lunch one day.

They just spent the better half of it trading everything they've picked up about the rest of the Cheerios' summers and now moved on to glee club, but since Brittany's kept in touch with everyone, there's not much there except this dish on the Asians.

(Well, that and Brittany boyfriend making a tool of himself auditioning for the Cheerios; Santana would have paid good money to see that, but when she burst out laughing at the story Becky originally told them, Brittany elbowed her sharply in the ribs, and that shit kind of hurt, so Santana won't be speaking about it anymore.)

"Yeah, like from the first day, didn't you see Wheels being such a wet dog about it all?"

"Really?" Brittany asks. "No, I didn't."

"That's cause you were too loved up with Hudson to notice anything around you, Britt," Santana says, but actually totally means it in a good way this time.

"Yeah," Brittany says dreamily, and Santana just chuckles at her. "I wonder what happened," Brittany continues.

"I ask myself the same thing every day."

Brittany presses her fingers in her abandoned glass of water and flicks the fluid over at Santana. "Not me and Finn, meanie. With Artie and Tina."

"Dunno," Santana says, immediately thinking of a source where she can get the information she needs. "I'll find out."

She's aware that she can probably just talk to Marley whenever she wants, maybe, but she likes having an excuse, anyway.

She walks into her first chemistry lesson of the year and sees the chair next to Marley unoccupied. They were partners last year, after all, and Marley was in Cheerios and they still do glee, so Santana supposes it won't raise any eyebrows if she goes and sits next to her.

Either way, once she takes a seat, she masks the decision with a question to make it deliberate.

"Hey," Santana says in greeting, and Marley is all wide smiles again. "You're still Tina's _bff_ and all, right?"

Marley nods. "Why?"

Santana pulls her books out and places them on the table. She glances over; the teacher's not here yet. Score.

"Britt and I were just wondering what went down with her and Artie," Santana says, resting her elbow on the table and her head on her hand, facing Marley. "Though you'd be the best person to ask."

Marley smiles. "I wouldn't be a very good friend if I blabbed all my bestie's secrets, now would I?"

"We're friends," Santana blurts out. "Kind of. I mean, right, so you can tell me." Santana cringes, 'cause fuck, there's something seriously missing between her brain and her mouth right now. She tries to play it off by adding, as nonchalant as she can, "I won't go _blabbing_, and shit, is what I'm saying."

For some reason, Marley looks amused, and Santana just shrugs again. Marley just shakes her head, then says, "Artie was treating her badly, so she left him for Mike."

"That's it? I was hoping for something a bit more juicy."

"Hmmm," Marley says, jokingly placing her finger to her lips as if in thought. "Apparently – and this stays on the down-low, okay? – but I have an inside source who said today's lunch might switch from turkey and cheese to chicken and rice."

Santana stares at Marley for a moment. Marley grins, utterly impressed with her own joke, and is smiling so wide her eyes are crinkling, and then Santana can't help it, but she starts _giggling_.

Giggling.

There's this moment when all Santana does is laugh while her eyes stay connected to Marley's, and everything feels weightless, somehow, like this is enough for Santana, right here, laughing, looking at Marley, like she's not in a class surrounded with McKinley idiots.

She recovers just in time for the teacher's arrival, and spends the whole lesson with a faint smile on her lips.

–

And that's how it starts.

Without rhyme or reason, Santana goes from avoiding Marley all summer to having these permanent _charged_ moments with Marley in chemistry – Santana snorts, real fucking coincidence, that – all of a sudden. It surprises Santana just how naturally it happens, that she can just let go with Marley, and well.

It makes her not want to think about anything else. So, she doesn't.

It's easy, spending time with Marley. She just has a knack for making things effortless.

If Santana would have known how refreshing the whole thing would be, she could have saved her father some dough by not needing that surgery after all.

Her smiling in such astounding amounts at a time is already more of a change than a boob job could ever hope to be.

–

Santana takes back what she said about glee club finally not being lame. New York or not, this is _super_ lame.

Seriously, chewing plaque strips are for fucking toddlers. She rolls her eyes as soon as Shuester introduces the lesson. What the fuck do teeth have to do with glee?

Then the guidance counsellor and her husband comes in, and everyone around her squeals. Seriously, the fuck? Brittany looks at her quizzically, also not understanding the fuss, and Santana just shrugs.

She gets it when she overhears a whisper of something to do with _handsome_ from Mercedes, and looks over to see her, Tina and Kurt nodding approvingly at the dentist. Marley looks indifferent, and for some reason, it satisfies Santana.

Regardless, once Santana gets with the programme, though, she realizes she needs to step up here, because she's still Santana Lopez, other developments aside, and there's some responsibility there.

She's also ticked off by Quinn, who is sending the dentist surprisingly strong _fuck me_ eyes for such a little Christian do-gooder, and feels that irrational need to take things away from her rise up again. She's so far from done with repaying Quinn for her fucking Cheerio stunt, and this is only the beginning of that shit, Santana thinks.

"Seriously," Santana drives it home, "you can drill me anytime you want."

The dentist looks thrown off, but all attention that could possibly have landed on Quinn switches to her instead, and Santana smiles cockily. Brittany chuckles next to her, entertained by Santana as always, and Santana smiles at her, equally amused at her own fucking hilarity. She doesn't mean it, of course, but no-one else needs to know that, and reputation is key, after all.

Seconds later, when she looks around to see all the unfortunate souls caught with blue teeth, she finds Marley staring at her with such a deep frown etched onto her forehead, and Santana just looks away. She's distracted by Brittany's shining blue next to her. Brittany just has really sensitive gums and flossing hurts her like a bitch, but Santana gets the joke and laughs anyway.

When they leave glee, Santana glances at Marley again to find that same ticked off look on her face, but really.

Maybe Marley just hates dentists, or some shit.

–

In chemistry, Marley is fine again. She seems a little bit iffy, but it doesn't look like anything serious, and Santana just shrugs.

It's really none of her business if Marley's having an off day. It's also not her responsibility to make Marley feel better, or anything.

Not even if she might want to – and not that she would know _how_ to – but, whatever.

–

Dancing in her thoughts while being drugged up is possibly the best experience of her life.

A part of it felt _so real_, and she doesn't even care if it was a hallucination or not, because she had the time of her life regardless.

When Brittany's mum drives her and Brittany home, they're still a bit wobbly, laughing at everything they see on the road, and Brittany's mum just laughs at them in turn.

In Brittany's room, they try and fail to catch up on their homework and instead just lie on Brittany's bed, still humming Me Against The Music and switching from one discussion to the next, all blurring together to one incoherent mess that Santana can't really keep up with. Either way, it's one of the most enjoyable conversations of her life.

"Seriously," Brittany says, "it's the best. _Best._" She draws out the word and then _tut__s_ out the last _t_, and then just says, "Best," again like it's some foreign language.

Santana blinks up at the ceiling, trying to remember what the current topic is. Oh, right, yeah. _Finn_, of course.

"Sex with the same person for so long?" Santana says skeptically. "I think your hormones are making you delusional. It _has_ to get boring."

Brittany shakes her head so furiously the whole bed moves with her, and Santana bursts out laughing.

When she recovers, Brittany says, "It's better than anything in the world."

"Pffft," Santana says childishly. "As if he can be better than me."

"It's not the same," Brittany says, frowning like she wants to explain but keeps forgetting the words.

"You'll kill yourself thinking that hard right now," Santana says, hands coming up and massaging her own head. "We shouldn't be thinking in the first place. We're like, risking our lives and shit right now."

Brittany chuckles. She brings her hand up and clenches it in front of her face. Santana breathes out heavily. God, she feels amazing, it's insane. She needs to go back to that tooth doctor and get some more of this shit for the future, she's sure.

"I miss Quinn," Brittany says then, out of nowhere. Okay, Santana thinks, so onto the next topic.

Santana groans. "I hate Quinn."

"No, you don't."

"No," Santana admits. "I don't. But it would help if she stopped being a bitch."

Brittany hums. "Are you sad about not being captain?"

Santana sighs. "Sad doesn't even begin to cover that shit, Britt-Britt."

She rolls onto her stomach and hides her face in the crook of her elbow, then groans again, loudly.

"I'm gonna get it back, though," Santana says. "I need it."

"Why?"

Santana shrugs again. "Just in case."

Brittany looks at her with that look again, and shit. For a second, Santana thinks Brittany's going to be all _are you okay what i__s__ wrong with you_ again, but instead she just lifts a hand up and runs it through Santana's hair.

"You're different," Brittany says gently.

It makes Santana curious instead of angry.

"How?"

Brittany shakes her head. "You're hiding things from me, and I can't tell what it is. Well, some. But not everything."

Santana snorts. "Yeah, whatever, Yoda."

She panics inside, though, wondering what Brittany thinks she knows, but then calms down a bit, because there's no way she could... Santana's careful, about that, so... There's just–- There's _no way_.

"Do you think Britney Spears was a cheerleader?" Brittany asks then, and Santana says, "Dunno."

Then they debate what Britney's cheerleading costume could have looked like, pulling Brittany's crayons over to the bed to sketch out ideas, and then everything else is forgotten.

–

This lesson is complete shit, and so instead of paying attention, she tries to mask her laughter at the terrible-yet-awesome periodic table jokes Marley keeps scribbling in the margin of her page.

_What show does cesium and iodine love watching together?_

Marley looks at her questioningly and Santana just rolls her eyes and shrugs lightly.

_CSI._

Santana puts her head in her hands. These are ridiculous, and so is the way Marley's eyes shine every time she reveals and answer. Marley bites her lip and starts writing again. Dammit, it's been going like this for a good fifteen minutes, and Santana's stomach muscles are starting to hurt by now.

_Silver corners Gold in a bar and says: AU, get out of here!_

Santana groans slightly, not wanting to be too loud, just enough to make some of her mock exasperation clear to Marley. Marley just chuckles at the reaction and Santana shakes her head.

_Stop it_, Santana writes, finally.

_No, you like it_, Marley writes back.

Santana kind of just stares at the words for a minute before she feels a light tug on her sleeve. She must have spaced out for a second there, because Marley's looking at her curiously, and Santana snaps back to reality.

Marley smiles at her, expression mild as ever, and Santana opts for listening to the fucked up lesson instead to escape that look.

Even though she knows she's incapable of doing so, she still worries about blushing.

–

Before glee starts, Finn comes bounding into the choir room and picks Brittany up, spinning her around. Brittany squeals and Santana can't help smile at them.

The cause of the joy is apparently that Finn got back on the football team, and she hears him he mumble something about his _popularity _to Brittany and he looks so fucking _relieved_ about it more than anything. For the first time in her entire life, Santana actually thinks she and the giant might have something in common.

Mr Shuester finally lets them do Britney, though he wants to join in, and seriously what the fuck is wrong with that man, Santana wonders.

At the school assembly, Santana and Brittany meet everyone else backstage before their Toxic performance, and Santana's heavily digging her hat. Until she sees Marley, and then she hates their costumes, because their black pants are almost criminally tight for the amount they move, and Marley's legs are _devilishly_ long, and–

"Hey," Marley says, apparently very close to her right now.

Or well, that Santana sees once she actually drags her gaze up to Marley's face. Marley bites her lip at whatever look is across Santana's face – Santana has no clue, her brain's kind of a mess right now – but before she can come up with a witty retort to save herself, the music starts and the club's shuffling onto the stage.

Santana hits her notes, but she honest to God can't explain how she does it with a throat that dry.

–

So.

Britney week has passed without incident.

_So far_, being the operating word here, because it seems Santana forgot for a second that this is actually _glee club_, and that it can be a real clusterfuck at times.

It all falls apart on the last day, when Rachel for some reason decides to belt out her feelings to the club as per usual. Only, this time, the feelings involve Santana's best goddamn friend, and well.

She let this go once before, last year, but this time she won't allow this shit.

Deluded by the idea of Finn losing his quarterback status, Rachel somehow convinced herself that a less popular Finn is free game again. Which, honestly, Rachel has no clue how great Finn and Brittany work, and how Brittany isn't Quinn and thus isn't with Finn simply for his popularity to start with, so really.

Still, now that Finn's on the football team again, Rachel finds it appropriate to like, lament _her_ loss or some shit like that, and it's all Santana can do not to get up and throttle her through it.

And though, sometimes, Santana understands wanting to _express yourself_ or whatever the fuck, but the pained expression on Brittany's face is the worst. Finn just looks uncomfortable throughout the whole thing, keeping his hand on Brittany's thigh and sending her small smiles the whole time. Everyone just looks around questioningly, and it's like Santana can _see_ the multiple conclusions they jump to, and it's about the longest fucking two minutes of Santana's life.

The bell sounds just as the final notes ring out, and it's a good thing too, because Santana has Rachel's stupid fucking sweater bunched in her fist seconds later, pulling her into the closest bathroom outside the choir room, locking that shit tight behind them.

"I'm going to say this once and I won't say it again, hobbit, so you better fucking listen closely," Santana snarls. Rachel cowers, tear stained cheeks and all, and it just serves to make her look crazy levels of pathetic. "Finn is not _yours_ to mourn or fight for or whatever. He is _Brittany's_, end of."

Rachel just looks at her blankly, and Santana keeps glaring.

"If you can't speak, at least fucking nod, will you?"

Rachel nods in short, sharp movements.

Santana sighs, and brings it down a notch. Well, her volume, at least. "I have never seen my best friend this goddamn happy, and though you don't hold a fucking candle to her and that lump is so whipped he won't even _look_ at someone else, I don't need you hanging around making her feel bad in any fucking way for loving that big bitch, do you understand me?"

Rachel nods again, but this time, she manages to squeak out a small, "I'm sorry."

Santana sighs, because Rachel looks utterly pathetic right now, and there's this minuscule – utterly, utterly minuscule– part of Santana that feels sorry for her.

She thinks about her options of getting rid of Rachel, and then suddenly remembers she has some revenge to take, and the pieces fall together easily.

Then Santana grins at Rachel, suddenly, and the relief on Rachel's face is so fucking palpable Santana swears that if she reached out she'd actually be able to feel it emanating off the midget's face.

"You know the age-old getting-over-and-under mantra, Berry. Maybe it's something you should consider," Santana says, before heading out of the bathroom. "I hear Puckerman is awfully lonely these days."

–

Even Brittany looks a bit thrown by Finn's suddenly religious nutfuckery, and _good_, because if Brittany even supported _that_, Santana would have thought there was no end to the madness that is their relationship, at times.

Her abuela is all serious and Catholic, her parents only treat religion with half-hearted commitment, and Santana just doesn't want any part of that shit, thank you very much.

One good thing comes from the whole affair, though; when Puck gets up and sings a Jewish song or something, he and Rachel dance and sing around each other and bond over their combined _Jewishness_, or whatever the fuck, sending each other flirtatious looks during, and well.

Quinn looks so put off by it all that Santana just smiles wider while she sings along with them, because – _jackpot_.

–

Santana has stopped being surprised when she feels herself give a fuck about someone in this room, and so she lets herself not only be genuinely sad on Kurt's behalf, but actually puts her thoughts into words at that.

He looks destroyed by it all, and it really touches something in her, but not even half as much as the expression found on the far side of the room.

Marley looks actually physically _pained_ whenever she looks at Kurt. It's so disconcerting that, in the grandest role reversal, Santana is the one to seek Marley out to ask about her wellbeing for a change.

She finds Marley having lunch outside, sitting under a tree alone, and Santana approaches her cautiously. Marley looks up at her and nods, and Santana looks around for a second before coming to a stop in front of Marley. No one's really paying them any attention, and Santana's past the point where being seen with glee kids can have any bad effect on her whatsoever, so she lets it be.

"Can I, uhm, sit?" Santana asks Marley. "Or... If you wanted to be alone, or whatever..."

"No, please," Marley says, patting the ground next to her and shuffling sideways so there's more space for Santana to sit so she can lean against the tree as well.

Santana settles in and they're quiet for a few moments until Santana works up the courage to like, _care __out __loud_ or some shit.

"You alright?" Santana asks then, taking a page from Marley's book. "You looked kinda... _troubled_, I guess, in glee."

Marley aimlessly pushes a potato wedge around in her plate. She's silent for a while until it seems that she, too, gathers some courage.

"My dad died from a heart attack," Marley breathes out.

Santana blanches. She was preparing for a run-of-the-mill _I'm fine_, but she's definitely not equipped for _this_.

"I feel so bad for Kurt. It's a helpless thing," Marley continues. "I... There's really nothing anyone can say, and I want him to feel better _so_ badly, but... I know that nothing helps, and... Yeah."

Marley just kind of shrugs and keeps on staring at her plate. She takes a bite of her potato wedge and then goes back to pushing food around, this time hacking her lettuce.

Like Marley says, there really are no words for Santana right now – she knows when she opens her mouth she'll just mess things up like usual, anyway – so she just keeps quiet, staying close to Marley's side instead.

They stay like that for the whole period, eating in a surprisingly comfortable silence.

–

Sue calls them in the middle of the week to help her boycott the Christian shit.

Santana huffs. _Now _she's good enough, now that she's not the virginal Christian captain that would object to Sue's plans. Right.

She has the strong urge to tell Sue to go fuck herself, but there's a long two years left in this hellhole. Besides, one day Quinn might just get pregnant via wine coolers again, or Santana might just get another brilliant idea to dethrone her, or, or, or...

It's far too early to give the idea of top dog up just yet.

–

"I don't understand anything," Marley huffs out. She leans her elbow on their table in chemistry, hand in her hair and looking at her books as if they're about to stab her.

She's full on pouting, and Santana can't help but smile at it all. They have a test tomorrow and it's the last period of the day, so their teacher gave them the last half of the class off to get some extra study time in.

It's been a downhill ride for Santana, though, but she won't say that and risk making Marley feel even worse for struggling. Instead, she just says something completely idiotic.

"I can help you," Santana says, because Marley being like this is very hard to look at. And because she's already thrown herself in the deep end, she just ties an anchor to herself as well, since she's on such a fucking roll. "Do you want to like, study together? It'll help me to review as well, so."

Marley looks at her in surprise, like this wasn't at all what she was she was expecting when launching her complaint, and then seems to struggle to speak through the small shock. "Uhm, yeah, okay. Yeah, that'd be great actually. Uhm. Thanks."

Santana doesn't know why she does it, but it's out of her mouth before she can stop it, so.

"You can come over to mine after this, if you want?"

If Marley was surprised before, it's nothing to the expression on her face now. She just nods wordlessly, surprised, and Santana simply nods back, equally shell-shocked, to be honest.

–

Unlike last time, Santana seems incredibly aware of every single fucking movement Marley makes, and fuck if it isn't distracting as shit. And goddamn, she's supposed to be fucking concentrating right now, for fuck sake.

Just like at school, Marley's sitting on her right hand side – but here she's close, so close – so Marley can write with her right hand while Santana uses her left and they don't obstruct each other.

"Santana?" comes Marley's voice, for the nth time today, and shit, she really should stop spacing out every two seconds.

"Mmh," Santana hums while she looks at where Marley's pointing with her pen, then she's back on track. "So, er, if they burn a definite amount, you can get the percentage like this, see?"

Even with her save, she still glances up to find a small amused smile on Marley's face, her ears tinted red at the top again, and Jesus.

Nothing is even really happening, and still.

Still.

Santana blinks and actually pays attention to Marley's next question, answering succinctly. But as the norm, she misses the next one, looking up to find Marley staring at her with a frown.

"If it wasn't that I need to learn this or fail," Marley says, "I'd leave you to your musings."

It's said with a smile, and Santana just rolls her eyes, decides not to attack in turn, knowing she's completely the one in the wrong here.

"Sorry. But don't be silly, you're far from failing," Santana says. "You're just being paranoid."

"You mother is paranoid," Marley replies easily.

The playground humour would frustrate Santana if it came from anyone else, but it is just so incredibly pedestrian, so _Marley_, and Santana can't help but snort anyway, just because.

"You're ridiculous," Santana says mildly.

"Your face is ridiculous," comes the reply, clearly meant to be playful again.

Now, Santana bursts out laughing. She wouldn't even be able to explain her reaction if she had Einstein's brain.

She turns her head to look at Marley, whose face is split into a grin, too. Marley's whole face morphs when she smiles, eyes crinkling brilliantly, and Santana can't look away from it.

"Really?" Santana says, wanting to sound exasperated, but it's soft instead, realizing how close Marley's face is to her own, now.

Marley nods, seeming to move even closer to Santana at the action, and Santana bites her lip.

Without moving her head, Santana glances at their hands, similarly close to each other. She watches as Marley hand moves until her thumb is brushing Santana's own, which jolts at the touch, then she caresses Marley's pointer finger in turn.

When she looks back to Marley, Marley has stopped grinning but her lips are still turned up slightly at the corners. Santana feels the expression mirrored on her own face. She lets out a deep breath, and then feels her own forehead fall forward until it meets Marley's.

Her nose slips beside Marley's own, and she finds it impossible to stop watching Marley's eyes, which sneak a quick look at Santana's lips before lifting back up to make eye contact again.

(Santana would be surprised at it all if she couldn't admit there was a small part of her that, when she said _You can come over to mine, if you want_, actually wanted to say _You can kiss me, if you want_.)

There's this moment where Santana freezes, as she feels Marley's breath hit her lips. With the air still light from earlier, they both let out a small chuckle at the situation, before they move even _closer_, and Santana eyes fall shut.

She swears her upper lip _just_ touches Marley's when–

"So, Finn finally ate his Jesus sandwich and we–"

Santana's probably never jumped out of a chair so quickly, and when her eyes snap into focus, she sees Brittany standing in her doorway, hand still resting on the knob of Santana's door. Santana watches as Brittany's eyes narrow for only a second before assuming a neutral expression again, walking leisurely over to Santana's bed.

This is the first time Santana's ever regretted the free reign Brittany has to her household.

In what must be the bravest move of her life, Santana chances a look at Marley, who now sits with her hands in her lap, frozen. If Santana thought Marley's ears were red before... Well. She's never seen that deep a shade on a person before in her life, she's sure.

"Hey, Marley," Brittany says, and it's so fucking easy while Santana's wound up so tight that it totally throws her off. "Chemistry homework?"

Marley nods. She catches Santana's eyes for a second before running a hand through her hair, steeling herself. "There–" Marley's voice is hoarser than Santana's ever heard, and then Marley clears her throat. "We have a test tomorrow."

"Cool," Brittany says, finally smiling, going to sit down on Santana's bed. "I'm not keeping you guys, am I?"

She frowns then, freezing midway to sitting, but Marley waves a hand to appease her.

"I should go anyway," Marley says, body somehow awkward when it moves to pack away her things. "It's getting late."

Brittany nods and Santana knows she's looking over at her now, but Santana stares resolutely at a spot on the ground, hoping it will eat her up. Brittany just settles in against Santana's headboard while Marley stands up and throws her bag over her shoulder, making her way over to the door.

"Thanks for the help," Marley says, and Santana can only nod. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Then she's gone, and Santana's busying herself with organizing the already organized chemistry papers littering her desk, reaching for anything to fill the sudden silence.

"Yeah, what about Finn?" Santana tries.

"What was that?" Brittany says. It's flat and without pretence, and Santana's hands start sweating.

Santana doesn't want to say _nothing_, since that's always something, and then just settles for driving her original escape plan home. "Finn," Santana repeats. "Something about a sandwich?"

"Seriously?" Brittany says. It's cold, not at all the voice of someone grabbing bait, and Santana's hands go still. "You've been off about something for months and now I finally know why. You're still going to play coy with me?"

"I've not been _off_," Santana scoffs.

"Are you secretly seeing Marley?"

"_What?_" Santana finally looks at Brittany. She wants to fight, but the blank expression on Brittany's face deters her like nothing else. "Don't be absurd," Santana says simply. "Wanna go downstairs and watch a movie?"

When Brittany speaks, her tone is colder than Santana's ever heard it before. "Stop lying to me."

It stops Santana in her tracks. She stands between her desk and door, grasping for straws until she decides that she's going with frustrated and bored.

"This is insane. In what world would I ever be like, _with_ Marley? Jesus," Santana says. "I'm barely even friends with anyone in glee, come on."

"And now you're just lying to yourself," Brittany says. It's gritted, in some way, completely unlike the Brittany she's known all her life, and the hairs on Santana's arms stand on end.

Santana gulps. "Have you forgotten who you're speaking to here? Santana Lopez, head bitch, man-killer, Puck's–"

"Stop _lying_ to me," Brittany repeats, raising her voice on Santana for the first time in her entire life, and Santana balks.

"Stop being such a bitch," Santana rebukes.

"Learnt from the best, didn't I?" Brittany's tone is cutting.

She rises from the bed, advances on Santana. The move makes Santana panic even more.

"Stop this, Brittany," Santana says. "You're being _stupid_ right now."

"You're unbelievable, Santana," Brittany says, shaking her head, and then just leaves Santana there, walking out of Santana's room and then her house.

Santana barely makes it over to the bed before she falls down on it, feeling like she's just been shot.

–

The next day at glee, Santana tries the best weapon in her arsenal: avoidance.

Nothing is wrong, she tells herself, when she walks in and makes eye contact with Marley, who sends her a shy smile from the corner of the group.

Nothing is wrong, she thinks when she takes a seat next to Brittany, who is not fuming, Santana decides, merely distracted by Finn, or something.

Nothing is wrong when she makes a comment about the new kid having no game, and Brittany doesn't even crack a smile.

But everything sure is _perfect_ when she's offered a chance to win some free motherfucking breadsticks.

–

She's at her locker, later, when she feels fingers sliding over her hip, and is surprised to find Marley standing on the other side of her locker door.

She takes a quick look around, and it seems like no one saw that, luckily, so. Santana tries to shrug off the touch as nicely as she can. Marley's grin falters for about a second before she resumes her normal beaming demeanour.

"Hey," Marley says.

Santana only smiles in reply, looking back to take a hold of her books.

"So, do you like Breadsticks?"

It throws off any sham of aloofness Santana's been trying to uphold. "Uh, sorry, who _doesn't_ like Breadsticks? Have you _had_ their breadsticks? It's the manna mentioned in the Bible, I'm sure, they – honestly, stop laughing, I'm serious."

Marley keeps laughing regardless, and Santana just pins her with a stare until she stops. When Marley speaks again, though, Santana wishes she'd just let her laugh on instead, forever.

"Well, did you want to be my duet partner, then?" Marley ask, shyly. "I was thinking we could go all acoustic, to set us apart. Maybe that Bloom song you like so much? We'd be great together. Singing, I mean."

Santana's whole body turns to stone, in that moment, she's sure. For a second, she sees it in her mind's eye, her and Marley sitting on stools, voices low, holding eye contact while breathing out, _You fill my lungs with sweetness, you fill my head with you. _And all this in front of a glee audience filled with whispers and questioning looks and assumptions and branding.

It's the most terrifying mental image she's ever encountered in her life.

"Brittany's my partner," Santana spits out quickly, slamming her locker shut. "Sorry, I just, I've already said yes."

Marley frowns. "Oh. I thought I heard Finn asking her if–"

"Well, she's not," Santana says simply. "So..."

Marley nods, getting the picture. "Right, yeah. Okay. Good luck, anyway."

Her voice is small and her bright persona has dimmed slightly, and Santana doesn't want to stay around that, really.

"Yeah," is all Santana says before giving Marley a small nod and moving along to her next class.

–

Santana goes over to Brittany's house after school.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

She has nothing to apologize for, in retrospect – she doesn't even understand why they're fighting, really – and so when she enters Brittany's room, she just says, "We need to sing Me Against The Music for our duet again. We'll be a shoo-in."

Brittany lowers her head where she sits, dropping her pen on the desk. "What are you doing here?"

Santana jumps on the bed, leaning over to pick up Tubbington and put him on her lap. "Practice, duh."

Sure, she said some words, but Brittany said equally offensive shit, so they must be square, somehow.

"I'm singing with Finn," Brittany says. She turns around in her seat, and looks at Santana with a raised brow.

"Are you still fucking angry at me?"

"No, Santana," Brittany says, tapping her pen against the paper. "I'm _furious_ with you."

Santana rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it. Now, come on, let's figure out how we're gonna play this."

"No," Brittany says, and really. She's never heard that word coming from Brittany in such a consecutive fashion before. "How can I _sing_ with someone who won't even _talk_ to me?"

Santana rolls her eyes _again_. Brittany really has a thing for repetition lately. "There's nothing to talk about."

Brittany sighs, completely abandoning her fire-filled persona, thank Christ. She stands up and plops down on the bed next to Santana. Now Brittany seems to be returning to her calm and empathetic self – and well, Santana retracts her previous thought; bring back the fire.

Brittany puts a hand on Santana's knee. "I'm your best friend, I love you, and someday you're going to need someone to talk to someone about this, and then I'll be right here, okay?"

Santana looks away from Brittany, struck by a whole lot of _something_ she can't quite put into words. A few moments pass in which Santana stays utterly still, not moving or breathing for shit. Then she hears Brittany taking a deep breath.

"I really did already say yes to Finn, though," she says, and it's totally conversational, a complete turn from minutes ago, and Santana breathes, relieved. "What about asking Quinn instead?"

Santana snorts. "Yeah, not happening."

Brittany ponders for a moment. "Hey, remember last year when you sung with Mercedes?" she asks. "Your voices sounded amazing together."

Santana grins. This type of conversation – scheming and plotting – is far more her speed.

–

In chemistry, Marley looks at her strangely all period, and the reason only surfaces at the end of class, while they're packing up their books.

"So, you're singing with Mercedes now?" Marley asks, voice small.

Shit, Santana thinks. Facetiousness, that's the key to getting out of this one.

"Turns out Brittany chose the dick over the chick," Santana says, grinning.

She expects Marley to laugh at it, like she usually does when Santana knows she's being on point, but there's nothing.

Instead, Marley just nods and picks up her bag before leaving, muttering a quiet, "Yeah, cool," as she does.

Santana just watches her go, only realizing she's supposed to be moving her feet when the class is totally empty.

–

Santana can't help but notice Finn's relentless crusade to keep the new dude away from the gay, or whatever.

Not that she cares at all for Lady Face, but shit, Finn was _just_ starting to get on her good side, and he's undoing all the progress he made.

"Why is your boyfriend such a dick?" Santana asks Brittany, watching as Finn and Sam argue about something in the hallway outside the cafeteria.

"He really wants Sam to join," Brittany says. "He just cares a lot about glee club. It's sexy."

"But he's like, upsetting Kurt and shit," Santana says. Upon Brittany's frown, Santana amends, "Don't your panties get all in a twist if someone messes with your kin, or whatnot? Or only if it's not the guy you're fucking?"

"Stop it," Brittany snarls, and just like that, the tension's back between them. Brittany seems to notice, too, because then she just takes a deep breath and puts her arm on the table to rest her head on her hand. In a much more calm voice, she says, "They're brothers, and they're figuring it out. I don't know much about it, but Finn means well, and that's good enough for me."

Santana's still not satisfied, and it seems Brittany notices the brooding.

"It's not about Kurt liking boys at all, Santana," Brittany says, incredibly gently. "Finn doesn't care about that. None of us do."

And well, now it's even worse. Santana looks away and her eyes find her lunch tray instead of Brittany's gentle blue, because what the fuck. She wants to throw her salad in Brittany's face, or something, but she realizes Brittany's just trying to be... _Brittany_, and try as she might, Santana can't hate her for it. In fact, she can only feel fucking lucky that even with her shitty behaviour lately, Brittany's still, well, _here_.

It's what makes her actually talk to Finn first, for a change, when he joins them later.

"I hear you're my main competition for the duets," Santana tells him. "Better put on your big-boy shoes if you wanna dance, Gandalf."

"I've got the best dancer on my side already," Finn quips, putting an arm around Brittany's waist and pulling her closer to him.

"Bring it, lumps," Santana says. It surprises the shit out of her that her tone is like, _fond_, or something in that line.

Finn's half-smile-thing transforms into a real one, then, and be just says, "Totally," for some reason ecstatic that he's getting to engage in some friendly banter with Santana.

Brittany looks between them, slow grin forming on her face, too, and that makes it all worth it for Santana, really.

At least _something_ is going right this week.

–

And then, suddenly, everything is wrong.

Santana fucking rocks her performance, of course, and everyone cheers relentlessly except Marley, who just kind of frowns at it all, but whatever. Santana know she rocked it, and maybe Marley just doesn't like Mercedes or something, since that reaction is an exact duplicate from the last time she sang with Mercedes, so.

Tina and Mike do some weird sing-slash-dance thing that's dear, but is really just upstaged by Finn and Brittany's number, which has a good dancer as well as two great voices to match, so. Weirdly, Quinn reluctantly gets up and sings a song with Artie, the only option she had, really, and good, Santana thinks. It's mediocre and boring, and Santana just grins throughout.

Kurt and Rachel do some Broadway type shit which Santana just yawns through, but toward the end, Santana does the math, and it becomes clear who's left.

Marley is singing with the new guy.

When they get up and smile shyly at each other, Santana frowns. It seems the original idea of acoustic worked out for them, although thankfully they don't do Bloom, because shit, Santana doesn't want that song ruined for her forever. They sing Lucky instead, which ends up being much worse anyway, keeping the shy looks flowing and voices harmonizing so perfectly that it sets Santana's teeth on edge.

And all holding _hands_, and shit, and well.

Unfortunately, she catches the worried look Brittany sends her and just rolls her eyes, faking indifference. Well, not faking, she really doesn't care. She just doesn't.

She takes out a nail file and does her nails, waiting out the performance and the lesson instead.

When it's all done, she packs away her file, picks up her bag, and leaves.

Easy.

–

Sam and Marley win by one vote.

In another world, perhaps, Santana would throw a tantrum.

Today, Santana does nothing.

Because she doesn't care.

–

The next time she finds herself in chemistry, she sends Marley a smile as she sits down, because, well.

(She doesn't care.)

Marley smiles back, thankfully, and thank God the PMS that must have overtaken her the past week seems to be gone now.

"Congratulations," Santana says. "On the win, and all."

"Sure it was a fluke," Marley shrugs. "You guys were much better."

"Maybe," Santana says, and it makes Marley grin. "But proof's in the Breadsticks pudding, so."

Then Marley snorts, and things feel better.

–

Santana's never really cared about the glee themes of the week, or whatever, but she really likes the idea of actually getting to put on an actual play. It's fun, and something different for a change, so she's pretty psyched to be honest.

What isn't different is that Shuester chooses his penny-plain white ass cast to be his leads, and it pisses Santana right off. This time, Santana doesn't wait to get Berry alone, but aims to put a stop to this thing in its tracks right then and there.

"Yeah, no," Santana speaks up, after Shuester announces Rachel and Finn will be romantic leads. "Rachel mooning over Finn once again for a straight hour and a half while the rest of us sit here uncomfortably, torn between feeling sorry for her face and wanting to punch a hole in it instead? How about no."

Shuester wants to retort but Rachel stands up and turns to Santana instead, doing that diplomatic thing with her hands that she thinks make her seem more important than she really is. Santana has to restrain herself from making a remark.

"While I understand and admire your concern for your best friend's wellbeing," Rachel starts, and Santana groans, "my blossoming romance with Noah is more than enough for me and has made me see the error in my ways, chasing after a taken man. I can separate the play from real life, Santana; I am a professional, after all."

Santana bites back a comment about Puck not even being here right now to control the midget's obsessive ass, in favour of just glaring at Rachel to give her a silent warning anyway.

–

"You didn't have to do that," Brittany tells her later at lunch.

Santana shrugs. "I'm just sick of her always being up front for everything."

"What, did you want to be Janet?" Brittany frowns.

"_Please_," Santana scoffs. "I have no desire to even try to pull off her whole dumb virginal vibe. I think I might strain something serious if I even try."

Brittany chuckles and is quiet for a while, munching on a salad tomato. Santana takes the moment to look over where Marley's sitting with Tina, Mike, and also Sam, and simply huffs in her mind at the sight.

Finn joins them and looks all puppy sad, and Santana asks, "Who peed on your sloppy joe?" Then she glances down at Finn's plate and sees only a chicken breast and shitloads of lettuce on it. "What the hell?"

"Babe?" Brittany echoes.

Finn just shrugs, picks up a fork and starts picking through said lettuce. Brittany shoots Santana a confused look and Santana returns it.

"What's the matter?" Brittany coos softly.

Finn sighs and puts his fork down, then leans into Brittany a bit. It's amazing how a six-foot monster can suddenly seem so tiny, being half-cradled by the girl beside him.

"I have to be in my tighty-whities for the show," Finn grumbles.

Santana snickers, but then Brittany glowers, and Santana lowers her head to stare at her lap instead. She can still hear them, though.

"And?" Brittany prompts.

"And I'm not like, _Sam_," Finn says. He stares down at his own belly. "I don't want everyone to see me like that."

"You're so hot, though," Brittany says, and Santana rolls her eyes. Do they really need to be doing this right in front of her?

"Yeah, but tighty-whities are for sexy things," Finn mumbles, and then his cheeks pink slightly. "I don't think I can feel all sexy in them and stuff."

"Don't I make you feel sexy?" Brittany purrs, and Jesus, Santana is sitting _right fucking here_, thank you, and she was looking forward to actually _enjoying _her lunch.

Finn broods anyway, even after that, and damn he really is fucking dumb sometimes.

Then Brittany makes Santana even more uncomfortable by softly whispering, "I love you," into Finn's ear, followed by, "Every part of you."

Finn smiles a bit at that, and then Brittany drives it home by softly adding, "But I'll support whatever you want to do. Maybe talk to Mr Shue."

And that's about as much as Santana can take. She excuses herself and makes her way toward her next class early.

She can handle the normal shit, the flirting and the _sexiness_ and the like, it's all familiar territory to her. But playing such a close witness to how intense that connection can be, that _intimacy_, it makes her skin crawl.

Some people are meant for that rich closeness and all that jazz, but others just aren't cut out to ever have a part of that shit. Santana knows she's only good enough to fall in the latter part, and tries to brush off the memory of the content look on Finn's face, being cared for like that.

–

This dress rehearsal rocks some serious tits. Santana pulls off her curls wonderfully, she keeps laughing at Finn's dumbstruck expression – he's not looking at the mystery that is Frank N. Furter so much as Brittany's über tight outfit, but it still works brilliantly for the scene – and all in all, the Rocky Horror music might be a real mess, but it sure is fun as fuck to perform.

Santana's having so much fun, she can't even spend too much time hating Sam and his perfect abs, and the way he flexes every time he passes Marley on stage, who just rolls her eyes playfully and punches him lightly in the shoulder.

The triple-numbers were even when Mercedes was a Columbia and Marley a Magenta, but now there's still three Magentas with just Tina and Brittany as Columbias. Luckily with Kurt pitching in to perform most of the numbers, it doesn't throw the symmetry of the ensemble off too much.

Santana doesn't have a big role, but small actors and their parts and all that, so she nails the shit out of it regardless. Beside, it's not much of a strain – lately, acting has become less of a stretch and needs no imagination. To Santana, it's just her every day life.

–

When they get to chemistry later, Santana chortles when she sees a piece of glitter still stuck to Marley's temple.

She takes it off without thinking, reaching and running her fingers through Marley's hair, just like that – really, it would seriously have helped to think here – and is startled when Marley turns to face her with curiosity planted all over her features. Santana pinches the shiny little thing between her fingers.

"Not so keen on stepping out of the character, huh?" Santana jokes, and it makes Marley smile, but only half. "What's up? Don't tell me your mom's also objecting to you being in tight butler outfit?"

"No... I–" Marley bites her lip.

"Don't make me pull it out of you."

"I was just kinda hoping there would be auditions or something," Marley admits. "For... For _Janet_."

"Oh," Santana says. "Why didn't you just say something?"

But she already knows the answer, simple shyness. That and–

"Mr Shue already made up his mind," Marley says.

"He's a wanker," Santana says. "You can still talk to him, though? He keeps changing the parts, anyway."

"That's what Sam said, too, but then I'd feel bad if Rachel had to–"

Santana's blood stops flowing for a second. "Sam?"

"Uh," Marley says, fiddling with her book ends all of a sudden. "Yeah, just... He took me to see a real underground Rocky Horror, and their Janet was incredible, and I was just watching her and thinking, _I could do that_. But just, yeah. I don't want Rachel to think I'm trying to take things away from her."

Santana ignores everything bar _h__e took me_ which sounds a fucking lot like _date date date_ instead, and, well.

Something feels as if it leaves her, on the inside. Something that felt like it could have been some completely irrational thing like _hope_.

"Is that like, a _thing _now? Sam?" Santana tries to keep her voice even.

"No," Marley says immediately. "Er, we– I was–"

Not wanting to hear any more, Santana cuts in with a topic change. "Why don't you just ask to be like, Rachel's understudy or something?" she asks. "I'm sure _someone_ can organize a bone accidentally being fractured in the hallways or something."

It makes Marley laugh, and the thickness from earlier dissipates, but only marginally.

"Please don't," Marley says. "It's okay."

A few moments pass wherein Marley keeps looking at Santana like she wants to say something, but she only opens her mouth when the class ends and everyone is busy leaving.

"It's just one part," Marley adds. "There's always more time. I'm used to waiting for things."

Though, Marley's tone and the look in her eyes suggest that she's not talking about starring roles _at all_ and the small hope in Santana's chest rises once more.

–

Puck returns, making crowds part for him, and there's a part of Santana that honest to God regrets selling him off to Rachel, after all.

(Luckily, it is just Rachel, so Santana can win him back if she ever she needs to. It's like putting Puck on a small Jewish shelf and saving him for a rainy day.)

It's not her fault, that their opposition is called The Warblers. I mean, they're just _begging _Santana to make fun of them with a name like that.

It's also not her fault that she voices that fact aloud, and it certain as fuck doesn't warrant the disappointed looks being thrown at her at once. Kurt is simply maddened, but it's like she can feel Brittany's glare from her side, and accidentally catches Marley's eyes, which are scowling just as heavily.

Seriously. The fucking _Warblers_. The guy who figured that out... It's really not her fault.

–

Mr Shue continues rehashing lessons like it's going out of fashion, but Santana loves boys versus girls anyway, and wishes for it to be a day of opposites forever. Berry not talking is pure bliss.

"Do you think you won't be allowed to dance 'cause we need to do the opposite of what we usually do, or some shit?" Santana ponders while.

"Hmmm," Brittany thinks. "We don't have a lot of dancing in our routine to begin with. Maybe I should try and move like Finn instead."

She wonders what it is that Marley normally does, and can't quite pin her finger on it. Santana only knows the effect that it all has on her, and it would be sweet if she could have a break from all of that for a while, really. But sometimes that feeling feels like it's lodged so deep in her that it's difficult to imagine it leaving.

"He is your total opposite in that department," Santana agrees. "So _romantic_."

Brittany just elbows her and Santana laughs.

"What about you?" Brittany asks.

"Dunno. Be less awesome, I guess," Santana muses. "I don't know if that's possible, though."

"That's not it," Brittany says. "How about being honest for once? That'll be real different."

There's that tension again. Santana wonders if Brittany will ever stop with the snarky fucking comments now that she's grown so used to making them.

Santana doesn't say anything in turn. Brittany can fucking learn from her silence.

After a while, Brittany sighs and just says, "Please pass the scissors," and Santana complies.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

–

Santana can't decide if they look awesome – her and Brittany, mostly – or absolutely ridiculous – that goddamn bandana on Fabray's head. They went overboard with the leather and, well, _everything_, really, but hey, no one can say this isn't the exact opposite of any normal, functioning human being, so.

But she looks over to where Marley stands with Tina, and again with the tight outfit there, shit. Suddenly, she's not so opposed to the leather.

Even less so when it once again goes both ways – she catches Marley looking over at her more than once, too, so.

But, later when the boys sing to them in turn, Marley still fucking swoons when Sam dances all up on her, and Santana just glowers as Finn awkwardly tries to dance to both Brittany and Santana, who is left without a partner. She appreciates the sentiment, but she doesn't get any less distracted from the scene on the far end of the room.

Seems like Marley has now taken over the role of glee club, going up and down from one moment to the next, and Santana just can't fucking keep up.

–

Finally, a faculty member at this school Santana actually digs. It's like, a teacher who keeps it as real as Santana? That's totally Santana's vibe.

And no Shuester for however long it takes him to heal? What a bonus. Another bonus – no more cravings to tear Rachel's throat out when she decides to take over the club.

Even Fabray lets loose when this Holiday chick takes over glee, and well, that's some real talent there, getting that prim-puss to take the stick out of her ass for two minutes. Quinn even lets Brittany and Santana dance with her during the number, the model of playing nice.

Seriously, Santana doesn't even know why she and Brittany still stick around just in case Quinn beckons for them, but hey. She guesses that Quinn doesn't really have a choice in whether or not they are going to continue being her best friends, so. They're only going to be done with Fabray when _they_ decide on it, and they've not given up just yet.

They're idiots for it, she thinks, but they'll be here when Quinn stops being a fucking bitch about things. As always. She doesn't know why, but they will.

–

She doesn't really want to spend her time talking about Shuester in any way of form, but she guesses she's a sucker.

This is one of those moments when she remembers just how much she's grown to love the glee club, and what they're all about, underneath the other petty bullshit. Support, love, and all that sweet shit, of course. Mr Shuester brought them together, and so she guesses they do really owe him a solid to help him out this once.

Because the universe hates her, she finds herself behind Sam and Marley in the semi-line that leads into Figgins' office as they go in one by one to make their pleas for Shuester to return.

When Sam goes in first, there's an awkward silence as Santana and Marley stand close to each other outside the door.

Finally, Marley caves under the weight of the silence. "What will you say?"

"Whatever comes to mind at the last minute," Santana admits. "Probably about how when he groped my boob, it was at least under the guise of separating me from Quinn, so. Suppose he has more class than most douches in this school."

Marley just smiles wryly, and Santana returns it. She'll let Marley think she was kidding, but she was actually being one hundred percent legit there. It's about the best she can come up with, really.

"How 'bout you?"

"Well, he made glee club," Marley starts, ignoring Santana's _duh _and continues, "and it's a place where I can exercise my passion, so that's good."

"Right," Santana nods.

"And, I guess, it's also the place where everything changed for me," Marley adds. "I just don't know if that's good or bad, yet."

Santana looks on with a frown, wondering what Marley means by that. Even if she had the courage to ask, Sam comes out and Marley disappears before Santana can.

–

"Wedding! Wedding!" Brittany shouts in Santana's ear, putting and arm around Santana's shoulder and jumping up and down.

It's so early, school's barelystarted and they've just finished cheer practice, and Brittany's volume is far too much like Sue's bullhorn for Santana's taste.

"Britt, inside voice," Santana murmurs.

"Finn just texted me to meet him and told me his mom is marrying Kurt's dad!"

Santana wondered where Brittany disappeared to after they hit the showers. She knows weddings are one of Brittany's favourite things in the whole world, which explains the excess energy even after a very draining practice session.

"That's cool, B," Santana says. "Is Finn excited?"

"I don't know, he said he wanted to talk later," Brittany says. "But I am!"

"Volume, B," Santana reiterates.

Brittany pouts. She knows Santana isn't as into weddings as her, not a staunch believer of the whole monogamous 'death-do-us-part' thing, but she does like events where there's an open bar, so there's that.

"I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun," Santana amends, trying to at least smile to show that she shares in Brittany's joy.

"I'm going to ask Kurt to take you as his date so you can come with us," Brittany declares.

"God, please don't," Santana says. "It's pathetic enough I've lost Puck to Berry, I don't need to be the queen's plus one at that."

"Puck?" Brittany frowns, but doesn't comment.

"Don't remind me," Santana says.

Brittany looks confused, and Santana just shrugs, navigating their way to their math class.

"You'll still have a ton of fun, though, Britt," Santana says. "And you better have a cocktail on me. Or three. Or ten."

Brittany nods, but by the time they reach the class, all the wedding joy has left her demeanour.

–

Santana's on her way to the bathroom in her off period when she spots Quinn standing oddly outside the choir room.

"Why are you hovering here like a creep?" Santana asks.

Quinn jumps a bit at her voice, but then looks kind of relieved to see Santana. "Oh good," she says, "it's not just me, then."

"Okay, crazy," Santana says, then makes to walk away from Quinn, but a hand on her bicep pulls her back.

"Why is every girl in glee huddled in there beside us and Mercedes?" Quinn asks, pointing through the little window in the door.

"Huh?" Santana takes a look, and sure as fuck, they're all sitting there and listening to Rachel fucking Berry speaking.

She pays no heed to the "Santana, wait," that comes from Quinn when she storms in and interrogates Berry.

"This is a meeting for glee girls with boyfriends," Rachel says calmly, and what? "We're gonna make them stop Karofsky from bullying Kurt."

Santana glances to find Brittany frowning, Tina just squinting and Marley avoiding eye contact.

"Okay, who are you even dating?" Santana asks Berry.

"Noah," Rachel answers, and Santana resists smirking at Quinn.

"Yeah, he can't do shit," Santana says. "Felon that he is."

"Which is why I've gathered the help of Finn, Sam and Mike instead," Rachel says, gesturing at the girls.

The name Sam stands out, and Santana looks at Marley again, who now finally looks back, worrying her bottom lip. Santana just sighs.

"You're so on my list, dwarf," she says and she leaves, hearing Quinn follow closely behind.

"Well, that didn't make me feel pathetic at all," Quinn says outside.

"Really?" Santana asks. "Are you talking to me again now?"

Quinn looks confused. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Ugh, just fuck off, Quinn," Santana says, already walking away. "It's fucking exhausting trying to be your friend."

"Pot and the kettle, Santana," she hears from behind her, then just flips Quinn off over her shoulder before turning into another hallway.

–

Shit gets real fast.

When the boys come in all bruised and battered, Santana instantly knows something went wrong.

All too soon, everybody's shouting and explaining at once. Marley dotes on Sam's black eye, which is, well, whatever, and Santana notices a strange tension between Brittany and Finn. Even Mike, usually the cool and calm guy of the group, seems to be shaking with anger and adrenaline in his seat.

It's like everything is thrown upside down, and Santana just kind of sits and watches as her world spins around her.

(Between it all, Santana can't help but feel incredible admiration for these boys, going at it to protect one of their own. That feeling of fondness for the club soars within Santana once again.)

Shuester comes in and restores the order, and then they rehearse for the wedding. Santana thought Brittany would be elated that Santana gets to come along to the wedding after all, but she just spends the session brooding instead, throwing hurt looks in Finn's direction.

It's one of the strangest glee meetings of the year.

_So far_, Santana amends again.

–

The free reign Brittany has in her house applies the other way around as well.

But with what she stumbles in on – and what happened a few weeks ago – she thinks that maybe they're getting too old for this shit, and they should reset some boundaries here.

She can't help it, that she overhears them fighting when she comes to stand outside Brittany's room. She also can't help it when she listens in for a minute, curious and worried all at once. Her body sometimes does things that are out of her control.

"I don't know what you expect me to do!" she hears Finn say, voice strained.

"I just thought you were the type of guy to look out for your _brother_, Finn," comes Brittany's voice.

"I told you, it's not about that, Karofsky can make or break me being quarterback."

"Yeah, that's about _you_, but it's _not_! Kurt is in some serious trouble and you're just worried about your bloody image!"

Wow, something close to a swear word. Shit must be legit, Santana thinks.

"I hate it when you guys get like this, all worried about popularity and dumb stuff. Hurting yourself and everyone around you in the process," Brittany says, voice much more relaxed now. "I see enough of it in my best friend, I don't need my boyfriend to put me through that, too."

Santana actually physically flinches at the words, emotions whirring. How exactly do you react when you find out what someone _really_ thinks of you, especially when you're not supposed to hear it?

Santana's had enough, at this point, curiosity overly satiated, and leaves the house and quietly as she came into it.

Brittany's words run over and over in her brain all the way home. Well, shit, of course she's worried about her popularity. Who isn't?

(There's a name that immediately pops up in her head. She tries not to think about that right now.)

It all just reminds her of her priorities, really – like what she's going to do about her wedding date, because that situation is just getting depressing. It doesn't take long to come up with a plan, and she figures it's time to clean off a dusty shelf.

–

She pulls Puck into the janitor's closet first thing in the morning.

In the weirdest move since the age of the dinosaurs, Puck actually _pushes her away_.

"The hell, Santana?"

"Jesus, I could be asking you the same thing."

"One, you've barely spoken to me all year and now this, and two, I'm kind of with Rachel now."

Santana laughs. "Yeah, right. You're _Puck_, that's not a thing that you do. And I'm _Santana_, that thing that you definitely do, remember?"

She connects their lips once more, but there he goes with the pushing again. So, he's being serious about the hobbit thing, it seems.

God what is with everyone being so neutered all of a fucking sudden? _Wimps._

"You being legit right now?" Santana asks, crossing her arms.

"Yeah," Puck answers, voice all tender and shit, and wow. He scratches the back of her neck. "I've always dug her, and now that she's actually giving me a chance– What can I say, I kinda like that she–"

Oh Jesus, Santana's heard enough now. She's not about to make any more of a tit of herself, and leaves before she can hear him sound any more pathetic than he already does.

–

Santana's cornered after lunch.

"So, it's just us and Artie left and unless you want to go there, I suggest we double-team this wedding and at least make it through with our heads held high."

"Wow, Fabray, if you wanted me to be your date, you should have just asked nicely."

"Don't play that with me, Santana," Quinn warns, and it's enough for Santana to stop.

"Yeah, what the fuck, why not," Santana says. "At least I won't be lonely down at rock bottom."

Quinn leaves her with a simple eye roll.

She's going to have such fucking lovely company at this wedding, Christ.

–

The rest of the week, she subconsciously scouts the hallways, thinking that if she could maybe bag one of these losers before Saturday, she could save some face at this wedding.

But the stupid hockey guys all have mullets, which is just about the unsexiest thing next to back hair, so. Karofsky is so fucking serious and shit lately, and she doesn't need a hulk at her side all night who looks like his rage will overtake him any second. And no one else on the football team really carries enough traction with them for her to put in the effort.

With any luck, another transfer student will come in and magically be in contention for quarterback, too. But then she remembers how much she actually despises Sam at the moment, for reasons still undetermined, and then she thinks, rather not.

–

She's left dry, and ends up going with Quinn after all.

It's not too bad, as the whole glee club bands together, really, so it feels more like a group outing anyway. Santana can even go so far as to say she has a bit of fun throughout the night.

It seems Finn and Brittany have made up as well, when Santana spots them slow dancing while ew, Shuester sings, and they rotate on singing songs through the night so everyone can rest and enjoy themselves equally.

Everything is fine and dandy until Marley hits the stage and shyly introduces the next number.

"Uh, hi," Marley says, then lets out a nervous chuckle, looking over the ground and twisting her hands together. "Uhm, Kurt asked me to sing something slow for you all, about what he called '_amour_', I think. And I guess something about like love and tenderness and stuff, and this song is really the only one I can think of when I think about that, so, uh, yeah. I thought you'd all like it. So, uhm, grab a dance partner, I guess? Yeah, okay."

Santana can see the redness on her ears all the way from here, and smiles when Marley ducks her head in front of the microphone slightly. Santana can admit that it's fucking _adorable_, which is probably the first time in her existence that she's used that word, but it's really the only thing that's fitting here.

The grin is wiped from her face as soon as the guitar starts strumming the first notes of Bloom, and really. Did Marley _have_ to do that?

She's frozen in her seat for the longest three minutes of her life, watching as Marley keeps her eyes low and closed, mostly. Santana's sure Marley's pointedly avoiding looking anywhere near where Santana is sitting, and well, it's good. Santana wouldn't know what to do if they caught each other's eyes, and for some reason she finds it impossible to look away from Marley.

The only saving grace is that Marley doesn't look at Sam at any time during the performance, either.

–

Later, because that's her luck, Marley comes into the bathroom while Santana is busy reapplying her lipgloss.

Marley freezes for a moment when their eyes connect in the mirror, but then moves forward determinedly, also coming to stand in front of the mirror. She pulls out her eyeliner, and it's quiet for a minute. Santana almost dreads the silence being broken.

"Kurt's dad is really cool," Marley observes.

Well, that's not too bad. Small talk is the name of Santana's game, really.

"He looks like he's having fun, at least," Santana says.

"Yeah," Marley says. "They're so happy."

Santana wants to say reply with something equally as meaningless to keep the comfortable chat flowing, but then her eyes catches sight of something in the mirror, on the hand holding Marley's purse at her side.

She blurts out, "What the fuck is that?" before she can stop herself.

Marley hand darts behind her back, but it's too slow, and Santana just stays squinting at the empty space next to Marley's hip.

"Is that a fucking ring?" Santana asks, and doesn't know why she sounds so upset about it.

"No!? Marley says quickly, "No, no. It's just a... A promise ring."

Santana is quiet for long moments, thinking about the train wreck that is that Jonas Brothers wannabe waiting somewhere outside. She also thinks about Marley, singing that song and then donning this ring, and it's all too much to process at once.

She decides to restate her question from a few weeks prior. "So, it _is_ a thing, then?"

Marley looks at her in the mirror, expression distraught. When she nods slowly, the move seems solemn.

"Cool," Santana says, aiming for indifferent, but knowing she misses it by a mile. "You can do better, but whatever."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marley asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Guy's a tool with no game," Santana answers simply.

"Yeah?" Marley says incredulously. "And what, you have a better recommendation?"

"What? No." Santana says. "I'm just saying. Keeping it real, you know?"

Marley laughs. It surprises Santana how bitter it sounds.

"_Keeping it real_. Sure. For your information, I don't _want_ to better than Sam right now. He actually pays attention to me and never plays any games," Marley sneers. "I always know where I stand with him, which is more than I can say for _you_."

Santana grimaces. Well, then. This is the first time either her or Marley have actually said any of the unspoken shit between them aloud, and fuck, Santana is just _not ready_.

"What?" Santana says, glancing around quickly, even though she already knows the bathroom is empty. "What does that even mean?"

Marley seems to have had enough, rolling her eyes at Santana's denial.

"Exactly that," Marley says, then leaves the bathroom without another word.

Santana just breathes in deeply, compartmentalizes, then goes back to fixing her lipgloss after what she decides was simply a momentary distraction.

–

Shit gets even more real.

The moment Kurt leaves the choir room – leaves the club – two things happen.

First, everyone starts talking over each other immediately – complaints, solutions, exclamations of shock – and Mr Shuester tries and fails to lead them out of their confusion.

And second, Santana sinks back in her chair, paralysed with something far too close to fear.

Like, she gets that Kurt had some troubles, but the fact that it's so bad that he physically needs to _escape_ this school?

It hits her somewhere deep, somewhere where an already crippling fear resides, fear that has a lot to do with what the feelings Marley inspire her truly means for her and her future.

She doesn't even ask to be excused before she leaves the room and escapes all the way to the courtyard, where no amount of fresh air helps her get rid of the restricting feeling in her lungs.

–

The loss hits the club hard. They can't seem to gel any of their numbers, and everything feels miss-matched, somehow, and just. They're still twelve members, but nothing comes together with one of their own missing.

So, Shuester finally switches up his vanilla formula. But now, that means Santana gets to spend the entire week having to watch and listen to Marley and Sam serenading each other over and over again. It's not her favourite thing ever, to put it mildly.

On the other hand, it also means that she gets the pleasant surprise of having her first ever competition solo. And she gets to do it with her best friend heading the number with her, too, and it all feels pretty special to be honest.

She, Brittany and Mike rehearse in one corner while Marley and Sam practice with the rest of the club in the other. Santana hums while Brittany and Mike perfect their moves before they'll be adding everyone else to the number, and it's nice and intimate.

When they take a water break, Brittany sits down next to her and they stare out over the club.

"I'm kinda nervous," Brittany admits. "Are you nervous?"

"No, duh," Santana says. Lies, all lies, but if she says it aloud, she'll feel it more acutely, and she needs to be in the zone until sectionals.

It's silent while they catch their breath. Her eyes are glued on Sam and Marley, who approach each other from opposite sides of the room, meeting in the middle to sing to each other with even more passion. Santana wishes this anger she always seems to feel at the sight could replace ever-increasing beating in her chest when she's around Marley. That would be swell.

"Santana?" Brittany says, and Santana only registers the words due to the hand Brittany's placed on her shoulder, shaking her out of her reverie.

She looks to her side to see Brittany and Mike frowning at her.

"We asked if you're ready?" Brittany says.

Santana nods, getting up. Brittany looks at her worriedly, and Santana sees her eyes flicker over to the other half of their club. Santana just shrugs it off, turns her back so she faces away from any distractions, and motions for the drummer to start the beat again.

–

Santana's crusade for some fucking man to wear on her arm keeps coming up empty, and really, the only person she can think of who is worth it at the moment is still Puck.

His jail cred has made him more elusive than ever, and he's still by Rachel's side, which is like, what. Santana needs to get to him before the midget drags all that rep-power down again.

She corners him outside the football players locker. "Fuckerman," she greets.

"Yeah?" he looks confused at her talking to him again, and honestly, get with the programme.

She leans her hand against the wall, caging him in. The fingers of her other arm goes to work trailing up his arm.

"You done playing games now, _Noah_?" she asks, smiling wickedly.

Her fingertips reach his shoulder before moving down his chest, and he gulps. "I _told_ you, Santana –"

"Yeah, I know what you said," Santana counters. "But words are words, and the like."

She makes sure to scratch his stomach as her hand moves lower, and lower, and lower.

"Rachel and I–" Puck tries again.

"Yeah, see, that doesn't make sense to me," Santana contemplates. "I can't imagine Manhands putting out on the regular... Or like, at all, so."

Her fingers dip slightly into the waistband of his jeans, and then he seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in just moments ago, grabbing her hand and putting it at her sides.

"I'm serious, Santana."

His voice is strong, suddenly, secure, and Santana groans, frustrated. She doesn't get an insult in, though, because then she hears, "Noah?" behind her and turns to see Rachel frowning at them.

"Hey babe," Puck says coolly, and then actually walks _away_ from Santana, and like, _toward Rachel_.

What is happening with the world?

She watches as they walk away together, Puck smiling down at his girlfriend. But, she sees that Rachel still turns back to look at her, totally worried.

Well, if Puck's not going to come over to her team on his own, Santana will just have prey on Berry's insecurities instead.

–

The first time she's alone with Marley after the wedding comes in chemistry. She looks over to Marley's hand immediately, glad to see that she at least isn't wearing that goddamn thing at school as well.

She sighs as she approaches her desk, not knowing what to expect from this at all.

Turns out she doesn't have to, since Marley is bent on ignoring her the entire period, and for once, their teacher actually teaches them for the whole hour.

Ace timing, for a change.

–

"Did Noah cheat on me with you?"

Berry's voice pops out from nowhere while Santana's fixing her eyeliner, and goddamnit, now there's a streak on her cheek 'cause that high pitch was totally unexpected.

"Jesus, Berry, give a bitch some warning, won't you?"

Rachel keeps on staring at her, eyes are teary and shit, and Santana sighs.

"What?" Santana snaps, getting rid of the mark on her cheek.

"Well, did he?" Rachel urges.

Santana smirks. "Not yet," she teases, then just smiles as she leaves a fearful Rachel in the bathroom behind her.

–

Santana's lost.

She honestly doesn't know how she got lost, but somehow being jostled around by everyone after getting in her sectionals uniform and hitting unfamiliar hallways on her own surely didn't help. She's got to stop with the nervous bathroom breaks before showtime already.

After drifting for three minutes, she gets to a lobby type thing, somewhere, and then spots her only way back to the team getting something out of a vending machine, and shit. Of course.

She decides that she still has about five minutes until they need to perform, and so she doesn't need Marley's help right now at all. And if she doesn't end up getting back to her team, fine, whatever, maybe Time Of My Life will be enough to take the title.

Marley turns and Santana once again spots that fucking ring. Yup, they'll be totally fine without her.

She doesn't escape quick enough, though.

"Santana?" Marley walks to her slowly, looking around, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Santana replies, not wanting to admit she's lost.

Marley rolls her eyes, clearly still upset with Santana to some level. She just shakes her head and backs away from Santana slightly, mumbling something about how they should be getting back to everyone else.

She narrows her eyes as Santana kind of just hovers, waiting to see what direction Marley takes.

"You're lost, aren't you?" Marley says then, but it isn't so much a question as it is an observation.

Santana hangs her head, not making eye contact as she nods. She hears a small snort and then looks up quickly, but by the time she does Marley's trying to look stern again.

"Well, come on," Marley says, turning around and walking away from Santana, not even looking back to see if she follows.

After a while, she slows down, letting Santana catch up. Santana guesses that Marley feels bad, because she knows that Marley can't really keep up a bitchy facade for very long, anyway. She takes her place next to Marley, and they walk in silence for a bit.

"Nervous for your solo?" Marley asks after a while, apparently too bothered by the silence.

Santana thinks back to her conversation with Brittany, merely shrugging off any claims of nervousness, but this is Marley, so. It seems Marley's affect on Santana's filter is still alive and well, then.

"Yeah. Kinda freaking out, actually, but trying not to think about it," Santana says. "Nervous for yours?"

Marley nods rapidly, and now only Santana notices how tightly Marley's clutching the juice bottle she got from the vending machine.

The hallways now look sort of familiar, and when Santana sees their room approach, she also sees her window for clearing the air with Marley closing. So, before they reach the door, Santana kind of tugs on Marley's wrist, stopping her from entering.

Marley looks down at where their arms connect, then up to frown at Santana.

"Hey," Santana says softly. She remembers the way Marley kissed her cheek before regionals, last year, and the thought makes her shiver. She's not as brave, though, and things between them aren't that great right now, and so she hopes something simple will do. "You're going to be great," Santana assures.

Santana doesn't stick around to see the expression on Marley's face, just escapes into the room, taking a deep, recovering breath.

–

At least the greenroom is entertaining.

Rachel keeps alternating between staring at Santana with these imploring _Jolene please don't steal my man_ eyes, and still looking contemptuous at not having a solo. Tina tries to calm down a shaking, stage-fearing Mike while Marley is clearly trying to hide the fact that she's about two seconds away from laughing in her best friend's boyfriend's sad state.

In the most random of events, Quinn actually allies herself with Brittany and Santana, opting to sit together with them on the couch, the three of them holding hands on Brittany's lap.

They barely get a chance to breathe and sort these little messes up before they're called up, and then it's show time.

–

They don't lose, at least, and somehow, a tie feels like winning, anyway, because when all is said and done, they're still on their way to regionals.

It certainly holds the same air on stage, when everyone embraces each other, relieved, jumping and taking turns lifting their little trophy in the air.

Santana turns to find Marley turning to her at the exact same time, and they just kind of stand there for a second, wondering what happens next.

"You rocked it," Marley says.

Awkward as shit, Marley sticks a hand out, and against her better judgement, Santana grasps it, and then they're fucking_ shaking hands_. The diplomacy of it all almost makes Santana laugh aloud. But she can't think of anything else to do in this moment, though, so she just rolls with it.

"You did, too," Santana says, taking her hand back and smiling despite herself.

Marley returns the smile, though, so at least not everything is utterly disastrous.

–

It's been such a long fucking year and it's not even halfway, Santana thinks.

She's so ready for winter break, but first she has to get through this fucking week of carolling, and she's not at all joking when she says that she doubts she will actually make it. Seriously. They're risking their lives here.

When Santana has to dodge a fucking _shoe_, she retires from carolling forever. Well, that is until they're dragged back into the faculty lunch room, where they at least get some support for once, so whatever. At least she lives.

The rest of the week is just fucking balls.

She isn't getting anywhere with Puck, and it's no use scoping out other potential candidates this close to winter break. She's getting real tired of having to look at Sam and Marley cuddling in every single fucking glee session they have, which seems to be increasing the colder it gets. And she even has to spend a night at Shuester's house, which is just like, no, because going in there once last year was enough. It's fucking creepy, and she really just has no desire to stumble into any teacher's home, ever, so.

Being around Finn and Brittany around Christmas is like being around two kids on a sugar high at the mall with Santa. And before she knows it, they're all actually at the mall with Santa, and Santana can't believe she loves her best friend this much to indulge her in this trip. Finn looks fucking hilarious perched on Santa's lap, and Santana laughs so hard she doesn't even hear what he wishes for. He grins widely at Brittany when he walks back, though, so it's not that hard to guess what it could have been about.

Brittany wishes for world peace, of course, but then also whispers something else in Santa's ear, and then it's Santana's turn. Santana just rolls her eyes and sits for a second before mumbling about bling, then scurries off again.

Santana secretly knows what she would wish for, if things were different, but she doesn't even know what she'd do if she ever got it, so really.

And just, in summary: she really, really needs this break.

–

The first half of winter break is spent lounging around with hot chocolate and watching movies just like last year. The only difference is that Quinn's MIA again and so Finn's taken her place.

He's surprisingly comfortable to cuddle with, though, and Santana spends more afternoons than she cares to admit lying against his side, with him holding Brittany in one arm and Santana in the other, their hands resting next to each other on Finn's stomach.

It's all too fucking polygamous for Santana's taste, most days, but also really fucking comfortable on most others, and so she thinks, fuck it, and just cuddles into Finn further.

(No one will believe him if he tried to tell people at school about it, anyway, so whatever.)

Christmas and New Year celebrations are boring family affairs and Santana gets so used to merely lying around, escaping from the cold, that when she realizes there's only one week left of her break, she can't even recall what it is that's been taking up all her time so far. Probably nothing. No, literally, she's just been doing_ nothing_, and it's been somewhat glorious.

More times than she cares to remember she stares at her phone, looking at the name _Rose_. Santana wants to talk to her, more than anything really – the word _miss_ comes to Santana's mind, but then she pushes it away again – but honestly. What would she even say?

She comes up with the worst excuse since _No, I didn't fuck anyone else, this baby is just from the Holy Spirit,_ and then opens a new message on her phone.

_Do we have any chemistry homework assigned for this break that I'm forgetting about?_

The reply is instant, and Santana can't fucking understand why she's taking so long to open it. Oh, right, she realizes – because her hand is shaking like a little bitch.

_No, we're in the clear. Christmas miracle, I say!_

Santana chuckles, then types out _Cool_. She bites her lip for a minute, then adds _Happy __(belated) Holidays_ and presses send before she can think twice about it.

_You too, __S__antana :)_ is the reply.

There's an _x_ written underneath it.

It's just one stupid fucking letter, and yet Santana can't stop staring at it to save her life.

–

The second half of the year doesn't start off much better than the first, to be honest.

Their football team sucks, Sue is out for blood again, and not even glee serves as her safe haven anymore, since the fucking football jocks are now infiltrating her safe space.

She can't be her glee-self, needs to put up the mask on in her own choir room turf. Needs to look pissed off and indifferent instead of pleasantly surprised and kind of into Puck and Rachel's soft voices blending together so beautifully. Needs to make sure the football club sees she's still approachable, still free game for them to chase after, even if she doesn't feel like it at all, hasn't dabbled with any of them for the entire school year so far.

Her new haven turns out to be chemistry, then, where she can at least act like herself while she's around Marley, like she always has.

"How was your break?" Santana asks.

They just got from lunch, and Marley's wearing puffy grey earmuffs and her nose is slightly red, and Santana ignores the way her her insides feel like they light on fire at the sight.

"Good." Marley smiles at her. "It was all a blur of blankets and hot chocolate, mostly." Marley bites her lip, then, as if debating if she should tell Santana something. Santana just raises her brow, and Marley adds, "I got to see Milwaukee, though, to visit Sam's family for Christmas, and I've never been there, so that was really fun."

Well, okay. Santana wishes she'd just kept quiet, then. Also, wow. Things with Sam must be serious, then. As serious as a fucking _promise ring_ warrants, she guesses. Santana doesn't say any of this out loud, though – she just doesn't want to know.

Instead, she just murmurs, "Cool," and ignores Marley for the rest of the class.

–

Things get shittier when Sue goes batshit crazy with her new Cheerio routine idea.

At first, Santana thinks it's one of Sue's hoaxes, but after continually mentioning this fucking canon thing, it seems she actually wants to drive this one home.

"You can't be serious, Britt," Santana tells her, later.

Brittany shrugs. "I can't let the team down."

"This isn't about the team, B, this is like, some serious death-dabbling shit."

"Sue's counting on me."

"Just tell her no."

Brittany levels Santana with a look, which is like, yeah, Santana understands one doesn't simply tell Sue _no_, but come on. In the end, Brittany won't see reason, and Santana doesn't want to face Sue's wrath, either, so she just goes silent, clueless as to how to fix this mess, but she's determined to find a way.

–

"We've got to do something," Santana says, when she finally finds Quinn in the locker room.

"Unless you've got a plan, though, you're wasting both our times," Quinn tells her.

"I've..." Santana starts, then slumps against the row of locker. "Been coming up empty this whole time."

"We can't say no, because then coach will only want to do it even more," Quinn says, and Santana's relieved to hear she's at least though about this in her free time. It gives her some hope that _their_ Quinn is still in there somewhere. "And we can't outrightly defy her, because I'm sure you don't want to be made an example of, either."

Santana nods. "What're our options, then?"

"Unless you've got an alternative championship-winning routine lying around..." Quinn shrugs.

Santana looks at her pleadingly, 'cause honestly, who does?

Quinn sighs. "I don't... I've been thinking, if we could find something to distract her, something even crazier than a canon, she'll maybe... I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Quinn shrugs again. "McKinley logs all championship videos and stuff, right? So, we can sift through the gymnastics ones and old Cheerio material and see if there's anything worth pitching to coach. It's not much, but our cup isn't overflowing, so."

"No, anything, we can try anything," Santana affirms.

"Meet me in the library after school, we'll see if we can find some archive clips," Quinn says.

It's not much, Quinn's right, but at least it's _something_.

–

Turns out it wouldn't have helped, anyway, because then everything changes when she's faced with the worst ultimatum of her life.

It's probably karma, Santana thinks, that she's now pressured into the same decision she tried to manipulate Marley into such a long time ago.

Glee or cheerios. The one she loves just because or the one she loves primarily for her popularity.

She thought it would be an easier decision than it is – popularity or nothing, that's always been the key. She doesn't understand why she stands in front of her room mirror for hours, looking at herself in her Cheerios uniform, debating the worth of it all.

–

It's not long until the whole club catches wind of what's happened to the Cheerios.

Marley sits next to her in glee, which is like, why, and Santana spends all session with her arms crossed, trying to ignore what feels like heat licking up her left side for an hour.

"Can I talk to you?" Marley asks her after class, as everyone filters out, and Santana's so surprised by the request that she just stays glued to her seat in response.

Everyone leaves and Santana says the shocked look on Brittany's face when Santana just keeps sitting there with Marley, but she leaves them be regardless, walking out and almost hitting the doorway with her neck turned to keep watching Santana.

Santana would laugh if, well, if she wasn't suddenly completely alone with Marley in a room for the first time in months.

"I heard, about Sue," Marley starts.

"So you've been elected to speak for the team, or what?" Santana snarks, because she's already feeling a lot of fucking pressure and doesn't want to be talking about it, really.

Marley shakes her head. "I was just wondering if you knew what you wanted to do yet. I know how hard it is to choose, if you remember."

Santana can't help but smile when Marley does, too, because she knows Marley's trying to be gentle about it all.

"It's cheer _nationals_," Santana answers finally. "It's just another glee performance."

"And after that? Are you going to stay away from glee forever?"

Santana finally uncrosses her arms so she can throw them up. "I don't _know_. Sue is... I don't know."

"I know you love glee, Santana," Marley says, and Santana just keeps looking at the floor, trying to ignore how Marley's whole body is turned toward her now. "And I know why you _really_ want to stay with Sue, even though she wants to shoot your best friend out of a damn canon."

"You don't–" Santana starts.

"What I don't understand is how much you hate the whole hierarchy," Marley says, and fuck her for seeing through Santana yet again. "And yet you're so dependant on it?"

Santana says nothing, because she _knows_ all of this, she does.

"We're worried about Brittany," Marley admits finally. "We're worried about all of you."

Santana nods. Then Marley just... Fuck, Santana just doesn't understand.

"We need you," Marley says. "I need you," she adds, voice much softer.

"I can't do this," Santana says, jumping up and grabbing her bag.

She doesn't say sorry, just leaves, and pretends that it didn't just get five hundred times more difficult to leave glee.

–

Santana's body is in her cheerio uniform, standing beside the bus, but honest to God, her whole heart is back on that football field.

She's never been so relieved to see Finn in her entire life. Brittany voices her thoughts when Finn asks where they really want to be, all of them, and Brittany says, easily, "Glee club."

She walks away and they quit, just like that, and it's so fucking easy that – what was Santana thinking, really? The place she's come to know as home at school versus the coach that wants to kill her best friend in the mad search for victory? That put her at the bottom of the pyramid after a year of slave-like loyalty? It's been fucking obvious all along.

Any doubts lingering in her mind are erased, anyway, when she steps on that field and the rest of their team – their _real _team – sees her, and Marley beams at her so brilliantly that–

Santana sings and laughs and has a blast, Cheerios already forgotten.

Afterward, they all gather around the field, everyone ecstatic, and Santana barely has time to process it when arms wrap around her neck and a familiar body presses against her own, and this time, Marley smells like lemons, and just, _oh_.

Santana just presses back, holding on for dear life, because... Well.

Oh.

–

Santana mistakenly took Quinn's concern over Brittany and her siding with Santana over Sue as some kind of step towards camaraderie, like things were _finally_ looking up on that front.

But when Brittany comes into her room, looking so fucking_ desolate,_ arms wrapped around herself, Santana immediately jumps up from where she's lounging on her bed. Brittany looks around at random things in Santana's room, like she's not really registering what she's seeing at all, and ignores Santana asking her what's wrong.

She just keeps on shaking her head, looking so damn confused, and also so _hurt_, in a way that Santana's never seen before, and _shit_.

After a moment of being cradled in Santana's arms, Brittany speaks up, and fucking shitting motherfucking cockballs, really.

"Quinn kissed Finn."

–

The next morning, Santana slaps Quinn as a greeting.

Quinn actually stumbles back against her cheer locker, so the door where Quinn's busy emptying it slams shut with the impact, but Santana still feels like she could have done it just a little bit harder.

Santana stares at Quinn so hard, trying to keep her hands at her sides, trying to not hit Quinn over and over and over again like her body's telling her to. Quinn stares back at Santana, as if waiting for it, but then seems to register that that was the extent of the beating she's going to get.

Finally Quinn straightens up, and it's like Santana can see her morphing into the bitch she is right in front of her.

"Still fighting Brittany's battles for her, I see," Quinn bites.

Santana counts to ten, because she might be a minor but she knows there's still some serious consequences for manslaughter, and she can't live out the super awesome life waiting for her with that shit on her record.

"There's no fucking battle to win," Santana says, and suddenly it feels like she's talking to Rachel again, and what is with Hudson being such a fucking drama chick magnet? "Finn is my friend, too – so I want to slap you for his part too, by the way – and he was so upset about it that he told Brittany immediately, like she was going to break up with him for it. He was more worried out her than you, and will always be, you fucking bitch, so don't flatter yourself."

Santana spits it all out as fast as she can, and is glad to see it lands when Quinn flinches at what she's implying, and _good_.

Santana knows Brittany isn't the kind of girl to feel threatened, but this is the first long-term boyfriend she's had, and even Brittany can't be immune to random spouts of vulnerability when someone like Quinn pounces on their man. Especially with all the history held there.

Quinn deflates a bit, and it's sad, 'cause Santana was hoping she'd at least get a few more punches in here.

"It was a heat of the moment thing," Quinn explains. "Tell Brittany I didn't mean it."

"Tell her your-fucking-self," Santana snaps.

Brittany has always been a soft spot for Quinn, too, and it's good to see Quinn feeling shitty about it after all, no matter the fronting she tried to do when Santana first got here.

Quinn nods, resigned in a way, and Santana sighs. She hates the fact that through it all, there's still a softness she feels toward Quinn, and fuck this, she wants to hate Quinn so badly, but whatever.

"I can't believe you," Santana says then, and wonders when she turned into the type of person to lecture and shit, but. Possibly, being on the receiving end of it from Marley so often has gotten to her. "We've been here for you every step of the way, just waiting for you to get your shit together. But this was one step too far, Quinn, we're not going to be there now."

Quinn's looking at the floor, and God, Santana knows exactly how she feels, but Santana _can't _right now, not with the shit Quinn just pulled.

"Santana–" Quinn tries, but Santana just holds up a hand.

"You messed up big time," Santana says. "It's gonna take a shitload of grovelling." She walks away from Quinn then, tossing over her shoulder, That is, if you even want to be our friend anymore."

"I–"

Santana cuts her off again, knowing what Quinn's going to say already, then just retorts, "Prove it," before she shuts the door behind her.

–

Walking around school without her cheerio armour is something else.

It feels even more dangerous than harbouring the secret inside her, in a way.

But there are other pros to it, as well, like wearing skin tight fucking dresses that still show everyone she's hot shit that is not to be messed with, so.

It's also wholly satisfying when she passes Marley in the hallways, who also does a serious double take at the amount of leg on show, and Santana just smirks all the way to her next class.

But fish lips still hangs on Marley's arm through the whole thing, though, so it doesn't change anything, really.

–

She doesn't even know how it happens.

One minute, she's just making a totally on point comment about Rachel and Puck and how that's not going to last at all, especially when Puck has her as a side option, then everybody starts tearing into her. Rachel drives it home, and God, Santana know she's been a bitch about Puck, but she's never said anything about Rachel ending up as a washed-up Broadway failure, so the stripper comments are totally fucking unwarranted.

It gets to her, that, for some reason, and she's out of there in a heartbeat.

Brittany finds her and consoles her. She's over-acting, but Brittany knows there's a part of it that's real. Santana doesn't like being told who she is or what she's going to become, and there are already far too many stereotypes in the world about what happens to popular high school girls in the future, so.

She just stands up and brushes off her partially fake tears and lets Brittany go to her next class, opting to clean her face in the bathroom. She's followed in there, and she doesn't know what's more shocking, that Marley somehow just waited somewhere to get her alone, or the fact that Marley's actually playing hooky to do it.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Santana narrows her eyes, locked on Marley's in the mirror.

Marley shrugs, walking closer. "Wanted to check on you."

"Please," Santana says, lifting up her mascara again. "As if those losers can get to me."

"Good," Marley says. "You shouldn't listen to them."

"I know," Santana says, but her hands still shake as she tries to apply her mascara, and dammit.

Marley's hand is on her own before she can register, and what?

"Let me," Marley says softly.

It's like Santana has no control, when Marley puts a hand on her hip and turns her so they face each other, and okay, so Marley is apparently doing her make-up for her, okay then.

They're quiet as Marley works, and Santana's thankful she has to look everywhere but Marley for Marley to finish her work, because she's just too, too, too close for comfort.

She gets violent flashbacks of the one time they kissed, and the other the _almost_ kissed before Brittany ruined it, and just bunches the material of her dress at her sides, clutching it as if it's a rope while she's hanging off a cliff.

"Rachel's wrong, you know," Marley says finally.

She's holding the stick out to Santana, and Santana realizes she's done and Santana's just been gaping this whole time. She closes her mouth, takes the stick, and ignores the slight giggle Marley lets out.

"You're going to be a star," Marley continues. "No matter what you do. You're going to be a star."

She smiles at Santana again, like she didn't just say something life-changing, and then slowly walks away from Santana and leaves the bathroom.

Santana spends the whole period standing right there, recovering, until the bell rings and she jumps, moving for the first time in an hour.

–

So, Valentine's week is like, the worst fucking thing in the world.

At least she's not desperate enough to go after someone else's boyfriend like Fabray, but then she actually spots Quinn, who still looks ashamed every time she sees Brittany, and feels bad for thinking it. She also sees Puck and Rachel, all lovey-dovey, and remembers that shit, yeah, maybe she is that desperate, actually.

God, she needs a boyfriend.

Even the Warblers sing to her about being alone, and if a team with such a pathetic fucking name looks at _her_ as being the pathetic one here, then, well.

She scouts the entirety of Breadsticks and once again considers her options here. Finally, she zeroes in on the table where Marley and Sam are sitting with Tina and Mike.

How Tina bagged a football star with a six-pack like Mike, Santana will never understand.

She thinks back to first year, where she slept with Mike a couple of times, and well, he's always been nice, and he's got some great status on him, and he has a letterman, and Asian Goth is no match for her, so really.

Her and Quinn are like two peas in a pod, after all, and she wouldn't be Santana Bitch-Hypocrite Lopez if she didn't take Quinn out for something and then attempt it herself moments later, would she?

And well, Mercedes says Santana's always in every body else's business?

She hasn't seen shit, yet.

–

Whenever she thinks she can't hate Sam more, she finds herself being proved wrong.

She just escaped Valentine's week, and now she's being tortured by Bieber. All the boys try it out, and there's really only one dancer that stands out for Santana during it, and she decides it's as good a time to strike as any, now.

Backstage, she approaches Mike, who looks kind of surprised at being sought out by her.

"Hey Mikey," she drawls. He knows that tone – good, Santana thinks, she makes such an impression that something as simple as her sexy tone lingers on, even a year later – and looks around nervously.

"Uh, hi, Santana."

"Quite the performance," Santana smirks, closing in on him, placing a hand on his chest.

"Uh, thanks," Mike says, backing away slightly, still looking highly shocked at it all. No matter, Santana thinks, Mike's frozen with inaction, and she can work with that.

"I was thinking you could give me a private re-enactment, later?"

It's not even a good pick-up line, but it's never taken much, with the jocks, and she just follows through by pressing her whole body up against Mike's now.

"Uh," Mike says again. "Tina..."

"Your point?"

"That, uh, that I'm with Tina."

Santana rolls her eyes, indicating that she doesn't care, so Mike shouldn't either. "Your _point_?" she reiterates.

"I've got to go," Mike stutters, and backs away, but it isn't a _no_, and Santana's all smiles.

–

Mike seems to be somewhat of a pussy, after all, and Santana assumes he went blabbing with the reaction she gets at school the following day.

"Why are you doing this?"

It's Marley, not Tina, actually. Santana takes a moment to appreciate the similarities between her and Marley, thinking about how she did this for her best friend, too, and well, somehow it makes something inside her happy.

She pulls herself together, though, because she's supposed to be chasing some guy right now, and that makes her think of Marley's question again.

Truth to told, mainly, she's doing this simply because she fucking can.

Santana shrugs. "How is this your business, again?"

Marley huffs, and wow, that action does not fit her, at all. "You know why. Tina's my best friend, and–"

Santana looks at Marley, then, brow raised.

"And, _because_," Marley finishes lamely.

"Yeah," Santana says. "Leave your _bff_ to her misery and run off to your boyfriend, won't you?"

She leaves Marley spluttering there, and stalks off. She's not even sure what that fight was about, really, but by now she's so used to fighting with Marley one minute then hugging her and shit the next, so. She just rolls with it.

–

It's a sign that it's not a strong relationship, really, when Tina is so angry at Mike that she sings the most banal song she can – Underwood's Before He Cheats – in glee instead of the romantic Bieber crap everyone's been spouting all week. Honestly, Santana thinks. How trite.

Look at Finn and Brittany, for example, who is stronger than ever, Quinn episode aside, and everyone should aspire to that, really. Mike should know he needs to call it quits if Tina can't be so... _Brittany_ about it.

Mike is easy to find, and she corners him when school comes out and he's about to walk home.

"I see you've been hung up to dry," Santana smirks at him.

Mike sighs. "No offence, Santana, but yeah, kind of, thanks to you."

Santana laughs. He can't even be mean when he's trying, and it's endearing, in a way. "Don't be like that, Mikey," she pouts. "Not when I'm the only one that can help you let off some of that steam."

She blinks at him, and he gulps. It's a sign of a man who hasn't been getting any without it even being his fault, and is kind of pissed off about it, no matter how nice and serene he tries to be at all times. She smiles, knowing it's in the bag.

When she's grinding down into him, later, ready for clothes to be pulled off, he stops. And honestly, they've barely started making out, and she's kind of missed having sex. It's not ideal, all of this, and Santana can't stop imagining someone else being under her instead, but it's _something_ that'll help her let of some of her own steam off, too.

"I'm sorry," Mike says, and Santana sighs, climbing off his lap. "I–"

"Yeah, you can't do this, true love, et cetera, et cetera," Santana grumbles, standing up and heading into her en suite to take a shower. "You can see yourself out."

Santana stands under the hot water and tries not to let everything get to her.

To be honest, she's getting really fucking tired of being rejected all the time. For Berry, for Asian Goth, for fucking _Sam_... wait.

No, that doesn't count.

Or maybe it does, and maybe that's why Santana's been so off her game, 'cause that first fucking brush off felt far too much like rejection, and well.

Shit. Self-awareness isn't a good thing for her.

And it's not making anything better, either.

–

Dressing like Berry somehow even makes Santana seem a bit more innocent, and that can only help her here, she thinks.

She has decided to stop with the Mike thing. It was futile, anyway, in hindsight, so.

Marley looks at her with a scowl in chemistry, and Santana sits down with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Santana starts.

Marley sighs, just nods, but still frowns at her books. "It's not me you should apologize to."

"I don't have to apologize for shit," Santana says, because saying sorry to Marley for snapping at her last time is something else completely. "In fact, Tina should be _thanking_ me. If their relationship can withstand my sexy, she has to know Mike is pretty fucking rock solid."

Marley still says nothing, all disappointed and the like, and Santana rolls her eyes.

"I don't owe Tina anything," Santana says. "It's over now, so. I don't need to say sorry, Tina isn't anything to me."

Marley looks at her then. "And I am?" she asks softly, looking at Santana like she really wants to know.

And God, Marley should stop this, because she has a fucking boyfriend, and just. Santana sighs, and tries to keep the conversation on its original point.

"I just– You were the one to confront me, not her, and like..." Santana says. "So, whatever."

Marley doesn't say anything, but seems to wear a self-satisfied little smile regardless, and honestly.

When class ends, Santana thinks that maybe the message got lost with other things that popped into their conversation earlier, so before she leaves, she repeats, "Just– I _am_ sorry, okay?"

Marley smiles, earnestly this time, and Santana lets out a relieved breath.

"It's okay," Marley says, "you were right, it wasn't really my business."

And then she's hugging Santana again, in that tight way Santana's come to appreciate lately. She can feel Marley pressing her face into her hair, and then the hug morphs into something else completely, and Santana finds herself running her hands up Marley's back slowly, marvelling at the warmth under her fingers, even through the clothes.

She forget she's in a class, in a school, in a body with a name that she can't remember for a second, and when Marley finally pulls back, it's like Santana's waking from a dream, all confused and trying to regain her senses and shit. All from a fucking _hug_.

A hug.

And like, she knows Marley was all furious with her like two seconds ago, but with how things change so quickly between them, and with her being that close to Marley again...

It's the most sexually charged hug of her life, she's sure.

–

Things die down in the glee club, but Santana still feels ostracised after being attacked by everyone and with the whole Mike thing, but she knows Finn and Brittany are always on her side, so that's okay. Even Marley's cool with her, so.

So when she hears there's a glee party, she's kinda game. When she hears it's at Rachel's house, though, she's far less game than before.

Brittany manages to drag her there with the promise of shitloads of alcohol, but when the two of them along with Finn arrive, it's the bleakest shit she's ever stumbled upon.

Luckily, Puck manages to get his girlfriend to calm her bitch ass down, so.

In just an hour, Santana's so goddamn drunk, and it's _glorious._ She forgets about all the shit, and suddenly the whole club is fine with her again and everyone is having so much fun and even the sight of Sam and Marley isn't pissing her off as much as usual, so. If she could _marry_ alcohol, she would.

Santana does body shots with Brittany, and she's not going to lie, there's a part of her that's relieved when she manages to lick Brittany's stomach without any arousal or agitation springing up inside of her.

(She always worried there would still be some remaining... _feelings_ – for lack of a better word – lingering there, for some reason, but well, thankfully that question is answered, now.)

Finn grins appreciatively at the sight, and it really shows the level of his friendship with Santana that she can just scowl at him playfully and punch his shoulder in retaliation. He gathers her in his arms and spins her around, and she just laughs, content with everything.

Later, she's pulling a stripping Brittany off an even more appreciative Finn's lap and crying to her in the kitchen, removed from anyone else. Brittany hushes her and tells her she loves her, but Santana doesn't even really know what she's crying about. And then, later, they're back in the fold again and laughing and dancing. It's such a fucking crazy up and down night, but Santana's enjoying the feel of everything too much to care about it, really, so she just lets everything go.

Santana knows its the worst idea ever, but everyone insists on playing spin the bottle, so.

Brittany kisses Sam, which is the weirdest fucking thing Santana can think of with everything happening in her life right now, and Santana can't help it when she catches Marley's eye during it, raising an eyebrow and smiling to each other about how random and ridiculous that is.

She doesn't know how long they've been smiling happily at each other, but then suddenly Sam infiltrates her vision again when he leans back into Marley. She tears her eyes away and looks to her side to see Brittany frowning at her, but Santana just clears her throat and looks away. Her gaze finds Rachel spinning now, and she prays to God it doesn't land on Finn, because she really isn't in the mood to slap a bitch tonight. It lands on Kurt's beau instead, though, so poor him, but that's not Santana's problem, so she's just relieved.

Luckily, Rachel starts singing before Santana has to spin. But actually, upon reflection, Santana wouldn't have minded a turn, really, as she finds Marley's eye again. She_ really_ wouldn't have minded.

Everyone gets distracted by karaoke, but Santana's mind whirls, keeps getting hooked on the _what if_, and she can't seem to keep her eyes off Marley from that moment on. The alcohol in her makes her brain turn fuzzy, and then she just locks on one thought, if she had gotten the chance to kiss Marley again, and then the want to kiss Marley overtakes her completely, and _God_.

Her body's not her own, when she follows Marley to the bathroom later. When Marley comes out, Santana pushes her back in, closing the door behind her.

Marley's eyes, glazed over, zeroes in on Santana and her mouth drops open a bit.

"Hi," Santana says softly, because she doesn't really now what to do now that she's here.

"Uh," Marley says. "Yeah?"

Santana just smiles at her, simply happy to just _be_ around Marley, and she knows her smile is super lopsided, but that doesn't make it dim in any way.

"You're really drunk," Marley smiles, equally sloppy, and Santana chuckles.

"You too," Santana smirks.

"Well," Marley says, after another minute of just standing there and smiling at each other. "I've got to–"

Marley starts to walk past her toward the door, but Santana is all instinct, in that moment.

Her left arms shoots out to stop Marley, winding around her waist and pulling Marley flush against her, right hand coming up and grabbing onto Marley's neck and pulling Marley's head the rest of the way.

After months of feeling like she's just floating around, when their lips connect, everything falls into place in such a spectacular manner that Santana actually feels completely _content_, for the first time in ages.

Marley stills against her as Santana presses her lips against Marley's, hard and long, breathing through her nose. Santana backs away for a second, only to breath, and then leans in again, closing her lips over Marley's top one now, much gentler.

This time, she feels slight pressure being returned, and then Marley's body just goes limp against hers, and _finally_, Santana thinks.

When she pulls back slightly, she feels how Marley's head follows her own and then Marley's mouth actually opens against hers and then they're _really_ kissing, and fuck, Santana is not prepared. Marley's hands mirror her own and she feels a hand grab her hip and soft fingers threading through the hair at the back of her neck, and her entire fucking body _shivers._

Santana presses against Marley, harder, _harder_, until suddenly Marley's back connects with the bathroom door and Santana feels Marley's body _all over_ her own, and _ohmyfuckingGod_, Santana thinks, she never wants to do anything other than this, ever, _ever_. Marley's kissing her so, _so_ deeply, and Santana doesn't care if it suffocates her, she just doesn't ever want to stop.

Both Marley's arms come up and wind around her shoulders and Santana wraps her own around Marley's waist, and God, they're _so close_, so close that she can barely–

"Marley?"

That fucking piece of shit salmon would choose this moment to come looking for Marley, wouldn't he?

Marley freezes against her completely, but Santana finds that she still _can't stop_, though, and before she can compute, her kisses have trailed down to Marley's jaw.

"Uhm," Marley says, and then Santana's mouth finds her neck, feels the words vibrate against her lips as it travels up Marley's throat, "be right out."

"Okay, babe," Santana hears Sam's voice again. "I'll be downstairs."

Sam's just so oblivious, and there's something pretty hot about it, Santana can admit. Well, it _was_ hot, anyway, because now Marley's pressing against her chest. She pushes Santana off her, like she wasn't just kissing the shit out of Santana two seconds ago, kissing her _back,_ and looks at Santana with wide eyes.

Santana just smirks at her, watches as that look doesn't leave Marley for a second while she slides out of the grip Santana's using to press her against the door.

She keeps on looking at Santana all the way out the door, all shocked-like, but Santana doesn't stop grinning for a single second.

Doesn't think she'll ever be able to stop now, really.

–

Marley doesn't come to school the next day, and Santana wonders how much of that has to do with the hangover. Either way, Santana's too concerned with her own hangover to be worried about that, so.

She feels like she's dying, but the heavy price of alcohol has just never been so fucking worth it before.

–

Later, her and Brittany opt to recover at Finn's house, because Kurt is basically a God to her at that moment, serving them some of his home cooking designed to help with hangovers, along with some energy-boosting, delicious-as-fuck smoothies.

The Hummel house can prepare themselves, really, because she'll be coming over here for the rest of her life to wait out her hangovers, then.

While sprawled out on the couch watching some mindless comedy, Santana fiddles with her phone. As soon as school ended, she sent Marley a simple but hopefully kind text asking about the severity of her hangover.

It's been hours, and she still hasn't gotten a reply.

She tries not to let it bother her.

–

Santana only sees Marley again before they need to perform at the school assembly.

Marley looks so guilt stricken when she sees Santana, wide eyes flickering between her and Sam, and really. It's not that big a deal. It was a super hot kiss, and so, whatever. It can easily happen again.

In fact, Santana's pretty fucking determined to make sure it does, so Marley should just focus on preparing herself for that shit instead of worrying about it.

Santana smiles and goes to greet her but Marley makes sure to keep as many people between them as possible to keep it from happening. Santana just rolls her eyes, because, overreact, much?

Instead, Santana just spends her time enjoying how those jean-shorts look on Marley, but then later that familiar feeling building inside whenever she looks at Marley like that turns sour, and then she realizes it's something else entirely that's building, and shit.

Puking her guts out on stage is not one of Santana's more attractive moments, but okay, at least they're all drunk, so. She hopes the details will be as blurry in everyone else's mind as it is in hers.

–

Try as she might, Santana doesn't get any more alone time with Marley the whole week.

And when she comes back to school on Monday, she's met with the surprise of her life.

She gets to glee early and sees Mercedes and Tina huddled together with worried looks on their faces. It's like Santana can _smell_ the disaster-drama by now.

"What're you prattling about?" Santana asks as she takes a seat, as far away from them as possible, obviously.

Tina, still somewhat distrustful of Santana after the whole Mike incident, stops Mercedes from answering, and says, "Can it, Cedes. I don't want my best friend's business all over the school."

"Really?" Santana rolls her eyes, then nods at Mercedes. "That's why you're talking to McKinley's resident Gossip Girl?"

Mercedes doesn't even look affronted, then actually shrugs as if agreeing. "It's _glee_," she tells Tina, "Santana's gonna find out anyway."

Tina barely utters a permission giving, "I guess," before Mercedes cuts in with, "Marley and Sam are quits."

When the reality of her words sinks in, Santana tries not to smile too widely.

She must sit there like an idiot, because she doesn't even notice the glee club filling out until Brittany, now sat next to her, kicks her foot. "Your dad finally got you that iPhone you wanted?" Brittany asks her.

"Huh?" Santana says, shaking her head slightly. "Uh, no."

Brittany looks at her weirdly, but then just leaves it. Santana sees Marley come in, then, head hung low, and well. Everyone gets over breakups, so that'll be fine, eventually. Sam follows not long after, all depressed and shit, and really, few things can break her good mood right now.

One of those things, apparently, is Shuester talking about sex and sexiness, and then Santana's back to frowning and hating the world within seconds. It's one of the most random things he's ever done, which is truly saying something, and really, he's the last thing she thinks about when she thinks _sexy_. In fact, he's not even on the list of things she _does_ think about.

It's so goddamn uncomfortable, but then Holly Holiday returns out of nowhere, and everything improves drastically.

So much so that when Holiday gestures for her, Santana wastes no time in showing Marley exactly what else is on offer now that Sam's out of the picture.

–

But Santana's good mood comes to a grinding halt when she finally tracks Marley down.

Reminded of the first few times she sought Marley out last year, Santana surprises Marley by dragging her in an empty classroom, though, of course, much more gently than she did last time.

Santana wants to smirk, but there's a part of her that is actually so fucking _giddy_ about things that she just smiles dumbly instead, any fucking pretence of coolness completely stripped from her.

It's more than confusing, to say the least, when Marley just looks unimpressed, sagging against a desk behind her.

"What?" is all Marley says, and Santana blanches. Santana thinks that Marley sounds _tired_, in a way, and she can't imagine what could possibly be wrong.

"Oh," Santana says, a bit thrown off. "Uh. Okay. I just wanted to see how you were. I heard about Sam, and I just wanted to... Yeah, I don't know. I..."

"And what?" Marley snaps. "What did you want to do, Santana?"

Marley seems at some kind of breaking point, and well, Santana wasn't expecting to be yelled at again so soon, but she can already feel it coming, so she just braces herself against the wall behind her.

"Sam is such a nice guy, you know," Marley says, and it's soft, not at all what Santana was expecting. "He cares about me so much, and I thought I could... But then, _months_ later, just one little move from you, Santana, and I'm ready to just drop everything, like that, and it's _not fair_. I couldn't do that to him, not anymore."

Santana looks away, then, because what is she supposed to say to that?

"And here I am, thinking, so what? So, you kiss me, and now what?" Marley looks at Santana like she's the one with the answers, but she's really barking up the wrong tree, if that's the case. "I know it's not fair to me, either, but I just can't keep stringing him along, when... It's stupid, because I know that nothing will change anyway, will it?"

Santana gulps, frozen, and that's when Marley starts to lose her patience, so here they really go again, Santana thinks. Marley just looks at her questioningly, and Santana doesn't know what else to say but, "It's not that simple."

"You don't think this has been hard for me, too, Santana? That I feel this way about another_ girl_? Everything isn't about you, okay, and–"

Santana gulps. "It's different, Marley. You don't understand what it's like, being me, watched all the time, like–"

"Who's watching you, Santana?" Marley asks, gesturing around them like the student body will appear out of thin air. "Who is it that's out to get you? You're always looking over your shoulder, worrying who's looking or talking or… I don't even know. Are you that freaking conceited?"

"Marley," Santana starts, grasping, "I– What does it matter? Look at what happened to Kurt. Why can't we just–"

"What do you even _want_ from me, Santana?" Marley throws her hands up. She looks at Santana, almost sarcastic as she adds, "Do you want me to be your _girlfriend?_"

Santana flinches at the word, and Marley notices. Marley laughs disbelievingly, shaking her head, but it's all just mirthless and so,_ so _bitter.

"You can't even say it, can you?" Marley shakes her head, standing up straight again, and just looks so _done_ with everything. Done with Santana. "Let me throw some advice at you, Santana, in your own words, something you told me a year ago and I wish to God I had listened to it back then."

(Santana has been horrible to Marley at times, she knows, and so she's already afraid of what's coming.)

Marley walks right up to her, looks at Santana with fire in her eyes, then says, lowly, "Stay the fuck away from me."

But, Santana's so used to being yelled at by Marley at this point, though, so she decides to fight back, this time. Santana grabs for her, saying, "Marley, _please_, just–"

"_No_," Marley says – actually, she _growls_, and God.

Santana lets her go, then, because if she's so toxic that she's turned that sweet girl she knew into _this_, then maybe it _is_ better for Santana to stay away from her.

When Marley's gone, Santana thinks that it's somehow fitting that it ends like it began, like it's been for them all along really – with Marley tearing into her about things, and Santana just standing there, too shit scared to take what she wants.

–

Santana leaves school early, after that, just drives home, sits in her car for hours, like a zombie, and stares at nothing.

The utter distaste Marley showed toward her plays over and over in her head, so much so that is seems to creep under her skin after a while, and she wonders if it will ever leave her mind. It doesn't surprise her when wetness appears on her cheeks, and then all she can do is cry silently, for what seems like hours.

She thinks about Marley's question, about what she really wants, and it's breaking her brain trying to zero in on a single answer for that.

One thing is abundantly clear, though, when she considers it.

She thinks about the way Marley felt against her in that bathroom, realizes that she's never felt that way, ever, not with any other boy, and that's seriously not for lack of trying, that's for sure. It wasn't even the most heated kiss she's ever had – there wasn't even any tongue, for Christ sake – and yet everything in her felt like a switch that's been lying dormant, waiting to be activated her entire life.

She knows, then, that whatever she wants, Marley-related or not, that it will never be anything male, ever again, and when that fact sinks in, well.

It just makes her cry harder.

–

When she looks at the clock on her dash, she sees that school's out by now, and then gets out of her car, letting the fresh air blow over the semi-dried tears on her cheeks.

She walks around aimlessly for a while, in a daze, until she finds herself sitting on a familiar brick hedge. At least her subconscious is working in her favour, for once. Maybe the time to talk has come, and one of the few things she's sure of right now is that she really needs her best friend.

It takes Brittany fifteen minutes to find her there. Santana reckons she must have just felt Santana's presence close by or something, since Santana knows that's happened to them before. Brittany sees the state of her, then wordlessly guides her to upstairs with a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Brittany locks her bedroom door behind them, then comes to stand in front of Santana, hands on her arms, looking at her in concern.

She whispers, "Oh, honey," and then Santana's falling into her embrace, sobbing her soul out.

–

It comes out of her like sick, while they lie on their sides facing each other on Brittany's bed.

Brittany's arms encase Santana, hands rubbing gently at her back, and she just nuzzles into Brittany's neck further. She grows calmer by the minute, with every single part of the story that leaves her mouth, all the way from _Get me the lunch lady's daughter_ right up to what happened earlier today.

When she's done, Brittany stays quiet for a long time, just soothing Santana with her touch.

After a while, Brittany presses a kiss to her head, and asks in a hushed voice, "Are you in love with her?"

Santana's been hit with so much today that she doesn't even have the energy to wince at the words.

Instead, she honestly considers it for a while, but then comes up empty, and simply says, "I've never been in love before."

Santana doesn't know if that's what Brittany wanted to know, but she guesses in some way, it's an answer in and of itself.

–

After coming to that new realization about her relationship with men yesterday, Santana walks through the hallways with even more fear than usual.

She's terrified that people can somehow _see_ it on her, just how different she is from them. And though it's the last thing Santana knows will happen, there is always the chance that Marley will get so mad at Santana that she tells everyone.

Her instinct is to run scared, to cloak herself in something to protect her, to grab and fuck the nearest football player, but honest to God, she doesn't want to do that anymore. Maybe her recent quests for a boyfriend didn't pan out because some part of her just knew that she doesn't really want one – will never again – and it all gives her a headache, worrying about a long-term contingency plan.

Her reputation as a man-whore has sustained itself enough that she hasn't needed to really sleep with anyone for the whole year so far, but Santana knows nothing can last forever.

So, she joins celibacy club. At least she'll have an excuse, if push comes to shove.

–

Glee club is excruciating lately. It's hard, being this close to Marley but not having anything to do about it and not knowing _what_ to do about it, either.

But she guesses it's better because Brittany's in on it, now, a strong hand holding Santana's own through it all.

When Marley speaks up in glee, the sound of her voice for the first time in a week gives Santana goosebumps, and Brittany clutches her tighter. Marley turns out to be the one supporting Rachel on her songwriting ideas, and well, then Santana will, too.

Santana decides she wants to take a shot at it too, just because it sounds interesting, and voices her opinion that everyone should get to try it out. She looks at Marley, hoping that the fact that she's also supporting the idea, in some way, will make Marley warm up to her a bit, but nope, there's no reaction.

Santana lies on her bed later, looking at a blank page, determined to try this out, for real. She wishes she could put everything she feels about Marley into a song, because maybe it'd be cathartic in some way, but she knows it would be impossible to sum it all up in a few verses. That, and she's too too scared to sing it, anyway, so.

But whatever, she can settle for writing an awesome song about Sam's mouth instead, which turns out to be the shit, anyway. At least she gets some of her feelings out in the open, but it's just her inner rage and hate instead, which is much more in Santana's key, anyway.

Marley turns out to be the actual fucking hidden gem in all of this, though. Rachel is a decent writer, when not writing innocuous songs about her boring ass life. But Marley is actually real fucking talented. She introduces her song by saying she's being writing songs all her life, and why did Santana not know that?

(She wonders what else is there to find out, and realizes she wants to, so very badly.)

Santana makes it through the first verse – even though it's apparent from the first lyrics that this is about her – just marvelling at the sudden realization of Marley's skills.

But by the time Marley gets to the chorus, the power of it hits Santana square in the fucking chest – it's all about loss, this one, about people fucking others over in the worst of ways – and she finds it hard to breathe.

She wants to storm out, she really does, but can't fathom how that will come across. So she just sits there, feeling the arm Brittany's slung over her shoulder pressing against her tightly, and tries her utter best not to fucking cry, 'cause the tears are like, two fucking seconds away.

Brittany, light of the world, fakes some fucking injury and 'makes' Santana take her to the nurse right after the song, and then just takes them to a bathroom instead, holding on to Santana in the far stall while she shakes.

–

Santana often thinks about how Marley must be feeling, too. She realizes that, from the start, it's been Marley that always puts a step forward toward Santana, while Santana's just standing there and being caught up with everything inside her own body.

She thinks about how passive she is, and Marley's always coming at her, and she's just taken it as the normal order of things, in a way. It's a marvel, how Marley even seems to have some degree of feelings for her in turn when Santana so rarely gives Marley anything to work with.

She wishes that now that she has sat and thought about it and came to this realization, she could perhaps do something to change it, in the future.

But she shudders to think that, with everything that's happened, perhaps it's simply too late.

–

Or, maybe not. Santana wonders how she just gets so lucky all the time.

Singing about it seems to have calmed Marley down a bit, and when Santana's getting ready for regionals in her little corner of the dressing room, Marley surprises her by approaching her with caution.

Santana glances at the rest of the room and finds Brittany already standing up, ready to intervene, and that warmth Santana has for her best friend flares up suddenly. She just looks at Brittany, silently communicating _stand down, big __girl_ and Brittany does, but doesn't sit down or look less worried.

"Hi," Marley says, but Santana hears the question in it, and just nods, telling Marley it's okay to speak to her. Marley takes a seat and Santana goes back to strapping up her big ass boots.

"I've been unfair toward you," she hears Marley whisper. "I was as much in the wrong, cheating on Sam, and I just got overwhelmed with everything and... I'm sorry."

Santana sits up straight and just nods, not knowing what else to say, really. She's just been hurting so much, more than she ever has before, and she's not quite sure how to put it into words.

"I just, I didn't want us going on stage with things... The way they are, and..." Marley looks at the floor, and Santana just nods again, because she gets it.

"Good luck with your song," is all Santana can say.

Santana hasn't heard it yet, because Marley's been mostly practising with Mr Shuester in extra sessions to perfect it while Santana and the club has spent most of their time on Loser Like Me, but word is that it's a pretty decent ballad, so.

"I... Yeah. The–" Marley looks like she wants to say something, but seems to think better of it when all she settles on is, "Thanks."

Marley hovers, and Santana wants to do something, once again thinks about what Marley did for her to calm her down before regionals last year, and closes her eyes for a second, breathes deeply through her nose.

"Yeah," is all Santana manages, before they're being called and Marley moves away from her, having to take the stage first.

Santana watches as Marley goes to stand at the centre of the stage before being taken away by the music.

Unlike the other, this song isn't about hating someone so much as it is about the hope that things will change, and the soaring music along with the tender words makes the idea tangible, somehow, and it finds a home in Santana's chest immediately. She catches Marley's eye as she waits in the wings, and the intense way Marley looks at her while belting out the chorus makes her know that it's for her.

Santana's just been _feeling_ so much lately, that she didn't think there was space in her heart for any more, but it seems she's being continually proven wrong on that, so.

–

The next time she's alone with Marley is in chemistry after glee.

Things between them feel settled, in a weird way, like they've reached the impasse of whatever was happening between them before, and are about to step into some new territory, for a change.

Santana wants, more than anything, for things to just go back to the way it was between them, easy and effortless when not weighed down by the feelings floating there, and so tries to take a step in that direction, at least.

"You should have won MVP," Santana tells her while they pack up their things at the end of the class.

Marley smiles humbly. "It was all Rachel's idea, though."

"You executed it," Santana says, leaving the class with Marley, a silent agreement that they'll walk to the next one together. "Flawlessly, I might add, which isn't a word I use often, so."

She watches Marley's ears, and sure enough, red starts spreading over it, but she barely has time to enjoy the image when another shade of red fills her vision entirely and cold slices through her skin.

"Boom!" Karofsky says.

And shit, being _slushied?_ Has she suddenly slipped on the food-chain or something?

"Oh my God, Santana," she hears Marley say next to her. Santana just splutters in reply, still shocked from being on the receiving end of a slushy attack for the first time in her life.

She feels Marley's hand on her arm – fucking heat cutting through the cold easily – and then she's being pushed against something, and realizes she's in the bathroom.

She hears something rolling and then something presses against her face, and she feels Marley wiping the slushy away from her eyes with a paper towel. Santana opens her eyes to find Marley gazing at her with worry.

"You alright?" Marley asks.

Santana nods, because the cold's not so bad, and the reasoning behind it is the only thing that concerns her now. Marley gathers more towels in her hands and then Santana just lets Marley wipe the rest of her face, too, because she guesses Marley's adept to doing this by now. It makes something in her ache, knowing how many times Marley's been slushied in her high school life.

After a minute or two, her whole face is slushy-free, and the shock has kind of worn off now, and Santana catches the faint smile on Marley's lips that she's so clearly trying to hide.

"I look like an idiot, don't I?" Santana asks, and Marley just bites her lip and nods.

Santana rolls her eyes but starts smiling, too. Then Marley's grabbing more paper towels, and moving on Santana's neck, and then Santana seems to register that Marley's actually touching her, and she gulps.

Marley must see the movement where her eyes are trained on Santana's throat, and Santana sees her blink rapidly, focused on where her own hand is rubbing over Santana's collarbone, now.

It's not intentional that, when the door opens and voices break the silence, Santana shrugs Marley off her. It's just second nature, and Santana wants to apologize, hates the upset look that suddenly clouds Marley's features.

She doesn't get a chance too, though, and Marley just smiles sadly and hands Santana the rest of the paper towels before walking away.

Santana sighs. She was so fucking ready for something new to happen with them, to not get caught in the same old shit, and then her body has to go and betray her like that.

–

She's glad to realize, later, that her popularity is still intact and that the whole slushy thing was just Karofsky being a dick with his strange obsession with glee club lately.

She hates being at school at night, even if it is for a concert, but this whole idea is so stupid that that's not helping either. Earlier, Finn came up to her and Brittany at lunch and said, "I love Mr Shue, but he's just reaching with this 'neglected artist' thing."

And well, if even _F__inn_ can see his idol being a twat, then there's nothing more Santana can say, really.

One good thing comes out of the night, though, when she gets to let out some of the long building frustration she feels toward Karofsky and everything he represents to her. It's beyond satisfying, taking him out like that, and she even gets to play hero for the sad little elf and his mate, but that's just a bonus for Santana, really.

The rest of it is just a disaster, though. Sunshine is a bitch, Mercedes pulls the weirdest diva stunt of all time, and the hecklers outside are seriously testing the last of Santana's patience. She has a vivid flashback of their first year where everybody was on each others ass and Santana had the image of a drama coaster, and really hopes they're not regressing to all that again.

When Tina breaks down, Marley coos at her and plays the supportive best friend, and to Santana, the image is one of the most endearing things she's ever seen, and just... Fuck, what is even happening to her?

–

Santana can't help that she still tears into the club when they ask for it.

Because, a nose job, honestly, did Rachel really think she can verbalise that shit in front of Santana without receiving the least amount of backlash?

She hasn't insulted any of them for a while, and so she lets loose – still feeling some residual anger from they way they ganged up on her around Valentine's day – but of course, skips Marley, because how can anyone insult that face, really?

She's honest with the comment about change. She has been there, actually looked in the mirror and didn't like what she saw, and now the little scars on the bottom of her – incredible – tits can attest to that.

It only helped a little, in the end, but she'll keep that part to herself. She says that everyone has something they'd want to change, but doesn't mention what hers is.

She guesses there isn't really a medical way to get rid of the debilitating fluttering in her chest that still takes over whenever she's near a particular member of this very team.

(Even if there was, she's not sure she'd go through with it, anyway.)

–

While they walk to lunch, Brittany frowns at her, all disappointed again.

"You're getting meaner," Brittany notes. Then she asks, in a softer voice, "Did you maybe want to deal with some stuff? Talk again?"

"No," Santana says. "Tired of that. I think I'm talked out for the next century, to be honest."

She's too busy noticing the new posters being put up on the walls, actually, and it makes her brain spring into action. She'd much rather make some serious scheming plans right now.

That's always been the best solution to her problems.

–

Being prom queen would be the ultimate power trip. Now that head cheerleader is out of the question, it'd be the next best thing to becoming invincible again.

And well, with things with Marley being so good lately, she has a feeling that it would seriously come in handy sometime.

She never guessed months of yearning for something she thought she couldn't have would come in handy in any way, but is thankful for it when it lets her easily spot Karofksy's blatant leering.

It's only icing on the cake when later, at Lima Bean, Kurt hints at what went down between them, and Santana puts the pieces together effortlessly.

She really does loving being the clever kind of super bitch she is.

–

It's official. Santana hates Emma Pillsbury, and her stupid fucking t-shirt letter press.

Obviously, the first thing thinks of is a label she knows people with put on her if they _knew_, one that she wants no part of, right now.

She imagines actually_,_ _literally_ carrying that shit on her sleeve, and its the worst thing she can think of.

The actual worst.

Fuck it all, Santana thinks.

–

Her anger at the whole thing – and her sudden desire to be prom queen – drives her to an extreme.

Karofsky enters the Lima Bean with his shoulders hiked up to his ears, like he's actually like, afraid to be seen here with her, and honestly, what the fuck. Then he sits down and eyes her carefully, and she realizes, hah, no, he's actually just plain afraid of her, which is fine then.

She's got him cornered within minutes, then aims to get his loyalty by establishing some kind of rapport. She can't really utter the word, doesn't let him do it either, but at least she can admit that maybe she's on the same team as Karofsky – the team that bullies and hides and tries far too hard to blend in at that. But unlike him, at least she can admit that she's awful. Karofsky is just too dumb to realize his own idiocy.

Luckily, it ensures that she outsmarts him, and she leaves the coffee shop, finally one fake boyfriend richer.

–

When Karofsky pulls her into his side in glee club, it's only satisfactory to a degree, though. She means, not the act itself, 'cause that's gross, actually, but the fact that she finally gets a one up on... well, everyone, really.

She hates herself slightly when she sees the broken look on Marley's face, but.

It's only temporary, all of this. So that Santana can be prom queen, then eventually make things better for herself and Kurt, so he can come back.

And maybe, she can make things better for the school as well, and maybe, just maybe, it can make things better for the both of them, in the long run.

–

It's part of the reason she kind of likes being in the Bullywhips. The other part is being in a uniform again.

There's something in her that really believes in the cause, too, but she needs to focus on being a badass first, and she revels in getting up in people's grills every now and then and enjoys the power reinstated to her.

It's a good week, all around. She gets Kurt back, which is like, success, but hardly gets any of the credit, which is like, what the fuck.

She just tries not to look at Marley for too long, though, 'cause the hurt there is hurting, her, too, but she can't afford to be weak while she's on this mission.

–

It surprises her that Brittany takes so long to seek her out. But when she does, Santana sees that it's because she was coming up with a game plan.

Brittany says nothing about Karofsky, just holds up that stupid shirt, and Santana knows what it means immediately, but then tries not to let it show. As per usual, though, Brittany just cuts through the bullshit.

"When you finally told me about Marley, Santana," Brittany starts, and Santana takes a look around, luckily no one overheard, "I was so proud of you."

"Yeah, well," Santana says. "I'm with Karofsky, now, so."

"Why?"

Santana shrugs. She can't really sum all that up in a concise matter, so she just settles for, "We should go, we're going to be late for glee."

Brittany steps closer to Santana so that her words can be quiet and direct. "Don't pull away from me again, Santana. _P__lease_."

"Then stop forcing me into shit, Brittany, Jesus," Santana bites out.

"No one's forcing you to do anything, Santana."

"Then what the fuck is this, Britt?" Santana pushes the shirt back into Brittany's hands, violently. "Just, stop fucking caring so much, okay?"

"I'll never stop caring about you, Santana," Brittany says, pushing it back into Santana's arms with the same amount of force. "That's the frigging problem."

Then Brittany storms away, and Santana slumps against her locker. She knows Brittany's heart is in the right place, but it's just not something she wants to announce like this yet.

She's just got a lot of other things going on, and Brittany can make her believe in a lot of things, but she can't make Santana feel any less shitty about herself, and she can't make Santana believe the rest of the world will stop being just as shitty, either.

–

She goes to the girls locker room, locks the door, and tries on the shirt, anyway.

She stares at herself in the mirror for long moments. It's surreal, seeing the actual word painted on her like that.

Strangely, after weeks of trying to get used to the concept in her head, she feels like it fits her, in a way, but she knows that out there, in real life, other people won't see it the same way she does.

When she pulls on her jacket over it, walking in the hallways and hoping no one around her has any type of secret x-ray vision, she realizes that she feels the same way she always does, even when she's not wearing the shirt, which is just like, duh, of course.

She sneaks in and watches everyone being so at home with their insecurities out on their chests, and it's probably the first time she's ever been jealous of the glee kids.

She spots Marley, then. She sees the word _Dreamer_ written on Marley's chest, and for some reason, it almost makes Santana tear up again.

She wonders if, along with dreams of stardom and success and whatever else Marley wants, if Marley sometimes dreams about Santana, too, the way Santana dreams about her, and just...

It'd be real nice if she a) stopped fucking things up all the time and b) stopped being such scared fucking bitch to boot.

–

The last time Brittany pulled a stunt like this in that fucking conference call, Santana easily forgave her.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

But now, on that fucking YouTube show that almost everyone in the school watches?

_Furious_ doesn't even start to cover it.

Santana doesn't bother hiding her emotions when, after confronting Brittany in front of _everyone_, she walks away from Brittany and out of glee.

It's going to take a lot more than a simple fucking hug for Santana to get over this one.

–

She keeps some quality cigars in her car for emergencies, and surely this one totally warrants toking up.

She's inhaling, deep, long drags, leaning against a wall on the secluded back part of the school, near the bleachers. She blows out and looks up at the sky, pondering the possible options she has for damage control.

She hears footsteps, then says, "Go away, Britt," in a voice that'll warn Brittany that the request isn't debatable at fucking all.

"Not Brittany," comes Marley's voice, and Santana, for the first time since she was twelve, chokes while blowing out the smoke.

Marley pats her on the back, and when Santana recovers, asks, "Are you okay?" in a way that only ever sounds genuine when it comes from her mouth.

Santana regards the question for a moment, and because she can't help herself when it comes to Marley, honestly says, "Dunno."

Marley just nods and leans against the wall next to her. After a moment, she reaches and tangles their hands together, and okay.

Her skin is so soft against Santana's, and when Marley threads her fingers through Santana's own, Santana can't help running her fingertips over Marley's knuckles. They just stand there, silently, until Santana's almost finished with her cigar.

Marley is still so nice, even though Santana's technically _dating_ Karofsky just when they started... She doesn't even know what... And just, she still feels like she's always in Marley's debt. She makes a vow to at least try not to _actively _push her away, all the damn time.

"Do you want some?" Santana offers up a drag just to be nice, because she heavily doubts that Marley will take her up on it.

Marley kind of scrunches up her nose at the idea, and she looks so fucking sweet that Santana just stares and smiles, only to find her cigar burnt out, long moments later, when she finally looks away from Marley again.

She tosses it and squeezes Marley's hand, pulling her along as she starts making her way back. She keeps their hands locked all the way to the field, then lets go with another squeeze.

When they part ways at the school entrance, Santana gives Marley even more when she leans in for a long hug, leaning her head on Marley's shoulder, somehow drawing strength from it to face the rest of her day.

"Thank you," she whispers softly into Marley's hair.

Marley just squeezes her tighter in reply.

–

It's not like Santana isn't familiar with Rumours, because she's not a fucking caveman, but she gives it another listen after school, anyway, wondering which number she'll choose to do in glee this week.

Every fucking song, good or bad, somehow reminds her of Marley, even if it's just a lyric or pretty piano piece, or something else completely fucking trivial. She decides that she just won't perform any of it, then, because it certainly won't help actual rumours floating around if she sings any of that shit in front of the whole club.

(Plus, she'll always kind of consider that Paper Kites song to be like, _their_ song, or whatever, and so one day, if she ever gets the courage, that's the one she'll be singing, if the moment calls for it.)

–

She's having lunch with Karofsky when Finn approaches them.

Santana tenses up immediately, and Karofsky, in a rare moment of not being a Neanderthal, notices.

"It's okay, babe," he says pointedly, staring at Finn and throwing an arm over her shoulder, which makes Santana squirm.

Santana can see Finn wants to talk, so she just orders Karofsky to go get her a churro, and after a second's hesitation and a glare at Finn, he obliges.

Finn sits down and looks at her pleadingly. "Please give Brittany a chance."

"Not happening, Hudson," Santana says easily. "Save your breath and your testies and walk away now."

"She's miserable without you."

"Shoulda thought about that before she started talking smack."

"Santana..." Finn starts, but then just takes a deep breath. "Okay, how's this? I'm going to stake out Sam's motel with Rachel tonight. Brittany'll be home alone sulking about you. Please, please, just go in there like always and you two can talk, maybe?"

There are too many bizarre things in there to process. "What the fuck, stake out, the hell is that about?"

"We don't know yet," Finn says, frowning too. "Something is weird. He was seen there with Marley the other day, and we want to know what's up."

Santana's mind goes blank.

"Santana?"

Sam and Marley, alone in a motel.

"Santana? You alright?"

Santana snaps her head back to Finn. "I'm not going to go, okay? Not yet. She can sulk all she wants."

Finn sighs again, knowing he's losing the battle. He stands up, but then places a hand on her shoulder. "_I_ miss you, too," he says, then walks away.

She mind immediately goes back to the Marley thing, and her insides spin.

Whatever, Santana thinks then, pushing back the nauseous feeling that suddenly overtakes her. She has a boyfriend, anyway.

It's not supposed to be any of her concern.

–

Brittany makes things worse by singing Sorry Seems To Be Hardest Word, and everybody just kind of looks confused, as per usual. Santana doesn't make eye contact through the whole thing, and at the end, Brittany just seems miserable again.

"Uh, Brittany," Shuester says when she finishes, "Elton John wasn't in Fleetwood Mac."

"Really?" Brittany puts on the tone that gets her out of any unfavourable situation. "But where does all the wood come from, then?"

Santana pushes back the chuckle that wants to escape because she's still supposed to be angry as shit, and Shuester just frowns as he tells Brittany to sit down again.

Marley gets up next and keeps things light. Santana hears the opening bars and smiles immediately. It's also the one song she connected with her feelings for Marley the most, but now...

Well, she's not sure if Marley's actually singing it to her or Sam, and the distaste she feels is so familiar that – well, full points for regression, at least.

Marley nails it, though. Sings it more beautifully than the original, even, smooth voice effortlessly breathing out, _This feeling follows me wherever I go_.

Santana closes her eyes for a second, pretending its for her, anyway, mouthing along easily when it comes to, _Don't, __don't__ break the spell_.

–

Sam storms out, and oh, Santana thinks, she was completely overreacting there.

(Also, she thinks back to the song Marley sung earlier the week, and basks in the knowledge that it was for her, all along.)

Later, she finds Marley sitting on the bleachers, staring out the football field in thought. Santana takes a seat next to Marley, close enough that their thighs are touching. She decides to open with the truth.

"I thought you were... _with_ him, again," Santana admits. "It was silly."

Marley smiles wryly.

"Especially because of..." Santana starts, but then just sighs. "I'm sorry." She doesn't know if she's apologizing for jumping to conclusions, or for this thing with Karofsky, but guesses it's a bit of both, in the end.

Marley nods. "I know when you're being honest; when you're being _real_. And you're not, with him." Marley's voice is strong and sure, but she's still human, and she adds a small, "Right?" after it regardless.

Santana doesn't even try and deny it. She just nods in confirmation.

"I get that you feel you need to do certain things, sometimes," is all Marley says, completely understanding, and God, she's just so _perfect_ sometimes that Santana can't stand it.

She changes the topic instead, focusing on the issue at hand. "That was really nice, what you did for Sam."

"I know what it feels like. I always think that my family..." Marley shakes her head. "But then you see someone with even less, and it puts things into perspective."

Santana marvels at this fucking incredible person in front of her, and then needs to swallow a giant lump in her throat.

"You're a really good person," Santana says, and then ponders the next part out loud, completely by accident. "What is such a great person like you even doing with me?"

"Oh, Santana," Marley smiles, then leans her head on Santana's shoulder, "you're the best person I know."

Santana swallows another lump, then just rests her head on Marley's, and they spend long moments watching over the field in silence.

–

Santana tries to emulate the things she feels on those bleachers when she tells JBI about Karofsky later, to make it all seem real, at least, but even she can hear the absolute shit in the lies tumbling out of her mouth.

She catches sight of Brittany, who listens in on the interview, and once again looks disappointed at Santana's actions. But this time she also looks a bit sad, like she somehow played a part in Santana having to hang onto the Karofsky thing even more. Fucking good, Santana thinks, because Brittany's damage did actually end up being so severe that now Santana needs to be pulling out all the stops.

She needs to pull everything together, 'cause they're on the last stretch to prom, and she _needs_ that crown more than anything at the moment.

–

They all go try out prom dresses and Santana regrets her decision to accompany the gang because of two very prominent reasons.

First, Brittany is there, too, and keeps trying to grovel and Santana doesn't want any of that shit near her, 'cause she's trying to focus on winning shit right now.

The focus part gets hard because of reason number two, which is Marley accompanying them on this outing as well. Usually, Marley's presence would infinitely improve Santana's mood, but now it's having quite an adverse affect on her.

In fact, this affect can be deemed close to lethal, actually, as Santana's throat dries more and more with every dress Marley tries on.

It's a serious matter of dehydration at this point, really.

–

One the night of prom, the actual dress that Marley ends up wearing – modest and cream-coloured, that binds behind her neck with her hair done in a beautiful long braid hanging off one shoulder – just makes Santana full out _choke_.

–

Santana slow dances with Karofsky, trying not to die because of how awful it is, and distracts herself by taking long looks around the room.

Quinn came here with Artie, surprisingly, and Mercedes is dancing with Sam, which is like, what. Both Tina and Mike, and Puck and Rachel are wholly engrossed in each other, and Santana just rolls her eyes at the lot of them. Finn and Brittany slow dance lovingly in the middle of the dance floor, and Brittany keeps trying to catch her eye, but Santana ignores her.

Marley came here with none other than one Jesse St James, which was apparently Rachel's orchestrated mess, and really. How in the fuck did Rachel even come up with that one?

Santana catches Marley's eye and is somehow pleased to find that Marley looks just about as uncomfortable as Santana feels, and God, Santana thinks, looking at Brittany again, and Kurt and Blaine looking longingly at the slow dancing couples as they stand off to the side. There's just self-torture every-fucking-where tonight.

–

When Santana walks to the stage for the announcements, she passes Brittany and hears a whispered, "Good luck," in passing. She surprises herself when she replies with a quick and sincere, "Thank you," but just chalks it up to nerves.

It's _insulting_, losing out to Kurt motherfucking Hummel, and Santana's out of there and breaking down before she even realizes what's happening.

She can't believe she put so much fucking stake in a silly fucking little plastic tiara.

Then there's a hand on her back and she sinks into the touch on instinct because Marley's hand is just so warm, somehow, and Santana didn't actually realize how much she needed Marley to be here until this very moment.

"Don't cry," Marley whispers.

Even though she knows Marley is being nothing but sincere, Santana feels silly for it anyway, and tries to wipe her cheeks with her fingers in vain. Marley comes to stand in front on her, taking her hand away and looking at her with sympathetic eyes. She takes a tissue from her purse and starts cleaning up Santana's face, softly and slowly, reminding Santana of that time she got slushied.

Santana feels like a child, in a way, but she has to admit there's something nice about being handled with such care.

"It's okay," Marley coos. "There's always next year."

"I need it _now_," Santana says, somewhat petulant.

Marley cups her cheek, runs her thumb over Santana's jaw, feather-soft. "Why?"

"Because," Santana breathes, trying to form the mass of crazy thoughts in her head into something concrete. "Because then I wouldn't have to face any repercussions. Ever. I'd be popular enough to do anything. Have the freedom to just take what I want."

She looks at Marley with meaning when she says the words _what I want_, and Marley just _gets_ it.

Marley bites her lip and keeps looking at Santana, but only now, slight worry coats her features. It's only for a second, though, before Marley masks the look and continues fixing Santana's make-up.

Santana realizes, for the first time – and kid of hates herself for not thinking about it sooner – that if any of this ever gets out, that it won't just be _her_, actually, but _both_ of them will be in the line of fire. In her mind, Santana doesn't just picture what happened to Kurt tonight – and the past year, really – happening to her, but to Marley as well, and flinches.

God, she really, _really_ needed that crown.

"What is it?" Marley says, close enough to Santana to notice her flinching.

Santana looks at the floor. "If I was prom queen, I could protect you, too."

"I'm fine, Santana," Marley says honestly. "We're both _fine_. Nothing's happened."

_Yet_, Santana thinks in her mind. Marley finishes with her face, and then Santana lets out a deep breath and closes her eyes as Marley leans forward and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

Marley chuckles and Santana opens her eyes to find Marley looking at her forehead, smiling widely, ears red again.

"Sorry," Marley says after another giggle, "I wanted to be all heartfelt and stuff, but now there's lipgloss on your forehead."

It breaks the heavy atmosphere that was clouding them moments before, and Santana just laughs as Marley uses that tissue yet again to fix the new mess. When Marley lets her hand down, they're still grinning madly at each other, and just.

Fuck, Santana wants to kiss her so badly right now, but she knows this is not the moment. Not with Karofsky still waiting outside, and things the way they are in general. Instead, she just leans her forehead against Marley's for a moment, breathing her in, reaches out and squeezes her hand before leaning back again.

Marley keeps their hands locked as she leads Santana over to the door.

"Now lets get you back out there to sing," Marley says, trying to be all motivational. "You're still Santana Lopez, resident bad-ass, aren't you?"

Indeed, she is. Santana feels like, prom queen or not, in that moment, it's enough.

–

The last week before nationals is surreal, in a way.

Without the pressure of cheerleading nationals, the past few months have felt completely different in terms of the usual end-of-year pressure Santana suffers through. She's still not speaking to Brittany, and usually would feel lonely because of it, but since she's come to accept the glee club's imposing presence in her life, it's not so bad.

She drops Karofsky, since he was useless in getting her prom queen, anyway, and now that that's over she doesn't need to pretend anymore, thank God. Jesse St James sticks around, but at least it looks like he has no interest in Marley while doing so, prom dates aside, so at least that isn't one more thing Santana needs to focus on.

And, apparently, they're going to perform at a funeral.

All in all, it's just the strangest lead up to a competition they could possibly have.

Santana didn't expect that she would ever agree with St James, but here she is. Brittany needs to control her fucking boyfriend, because him diverting the club's attention to the funeral might have just cost them their trophy.

But whatever, Santana thinks. Time to compartmentalize. She ignores everything, and focuses on getting another solo.

She thinks about her song, and realizes that, with her strong history in the field, another Winehouse number will be the way to go. And something with emotion, of course, so she doesn't need to get pushed aside because of the mere fact that Berry can easily squeeze out a tear during any solo.

It's just difficult, though, because everything she's been feeling recently has just been too _big_ to compress into one song. She thinks about how she used hate, last time she had to project for a song, and goes the same way again. She simply thinks back to a week ago, to what she was feeling when she thought Sam snatched Marley up again, and it's easy, then, to settle on Back To Black.

She rocks it, of course.

But of course one fucking Barbra Berry wins out. She isn't vanilla enough, she remembers, and should have known better than to get her hopes up.

But hey, Santana thinks, whatever. Her world has been turned upside down so many times lately and so much shit has been thrown her way, that in the end the small loss doesn't turn out to be hard to deal with.

–

It becomes even less of an issue after the funeral.

Well, _everything_ becomes less of an issue, then.

Santana's not one for existentialism, but the feelings the funeral stirs up in her are incredibly intense and all-consuming. Like funerals usually do, it seems to give Santana this grand perspective, all of a sudden, and in the face of death, all her stupid problems suddenly seem inconsequential.

When they finish singing, Santana goes to sit next to Brittany in the pyres, and reaches out to hold her hard through the rest of the entire service.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

Outside, she tugs Brittany to where Quinn stands, hugging herself and staring into the distance, and they hug her without prompting, and she hugs them back just as tightly, and in an instant, both the big and petty issues between them seem to vanish into thin air.

She looks over to see Marley holding Tina's hand, eyes teary, and it breaks Santana's heart to see her in that state. Santana wishes the funeral could make some other things just as easy as forgiving your best friend, but those things require a fair bit of bravery as well, and that's just something Santana runs low on most of the time.

–

Santana is a rational person.

In her mind, the facts are simple: she knows that air is, simply, _air_.

But somehow, the minute she steps off the plane, it's like the air of New York breathes brand new life into her. She doesn't know what it is about this place, but like, God, everything is just... _better_. She feels better. Different. She wonders is this is a normal reaction to have to a city. To concrete. To streets.

But somehow, it's more than just those things. In what way, she has no idea, but it just is. Fucking _New York_.

All Santana wants to do is explore and not sit in that hotel. She's ecstatic when everyone agrees.

They end up singing like maniacs wherever they go, and then it's even better. There this moment when, while running from one park bench to the next, she ends up holding Marley's hand for a whole half of a verse, and she doesn't even care.

She's in a different place, no one knows her here, and just, _New York_. Everything feels perfect.

–

Later, when they're back in the hotel and actually sweating over their songs, her part of Light Up The World comes to her without trouble.

It must be New York, she thinks, that she can finally get her feelings out there in the simplest way that she can, with some great rhymes to boot. She focuses on what she feels, right at this moment, stealing glances at Marley over the top of her notebook, and it just pours out of her, words clear and to the point.

Well. That was surprisingly easy.

She doesn't look up at all when Rachel reads her part aloud – _we keep __on__ dancing in the dark, never knowing what we are, it's been tearing me apart_ – and tries to keep her face as neutral as possible. She barely acknowledges the praise the rest of the club give her, opting to keep her head low and focusing on the doodles she's making on her notebook instead.

When she finally gets the courage to look up, much later, and finds Marley smiling at her tenderly, she wonders if there's any part of her, too, that turn as red as Marley's ears do, whenever shit like this happens.

–

She gets a soft pretzel on from a dodgy street vendor, and even that tastes different – better – than usual.

It's early in the morning, and she escaped to take a walk around the block with Quinn and Brittany. It's so nice just being with the two of them again, and even better when it's walking _here_.

"Can you imagine what it would be like to actually _live_ here?" Brittany voices Santana's thoughts for her, voice all awe-filled, and well, _yeah_.

"Do you guys even know what you want to do?" Quinn asks, mouth filled with pretzel. Santana smiles, it's only with them that Quinn'll ever let herself go like this, and Santana's just relieved that things are finally, _finally_ better between them. "After McKinley, I mean."

Santana shrugs. That feels like _eons_ from now. She has a feeling she still has _a lot_ of shit to survive before she escapes high school.

Brittany shakes her head. "Dancing, obviously," Brittany says. "But I don't know any more than that."

They look to Santana, then, whose eyes are still just flitting around, taking in city around them. Santana shrugs and gestures to it all.

"Dunno. But right now," Santana says, "there's just nowhere else I'd rather be than right here."

–

Santana stands in the wings, waiting to go up on stage, as ready as she'll ever be.

She feels a bit weird, because what has become a pre-show ritual of splashing water all up in her grill to calm her down felt like it wasn't needed today, like New York put enough energy in her veins and she could just go for it.

But now, watching as Finn and Rachel belt it out on stage, realizing that this is _nationals_, after all, she feels some of the usual nerves return. She grudgingly admitted that Finn and Rachel do need to sing together, their voices sound the best together and make for the strongest duets, and Rachel's been good about Finn lately, and her and Puck are still going strong, so.

While they sing, she spots Marley looking at her from the other side of the stage. She sends Santana a secret little smile as they make eye contact, and by now, Santana can return that shit without thinking about it.

Then, everything inside her calms, and she realizes she doesn't need that bathroom routine, after all.

–

They don't make it.

Santana doesn't know what it is. Maybe they're just not as seasoned, or maybe they were flat somewhere, or maybe their dancing didn't sync up at one point, or, or, or...

(Maybe they're just not as good as they think they are.)

For whatever reason, no one else takes the loss quite as hard as she does.

She had imagined it all – winning, screaming, lifting that trophy, catching Marley's eyes and smiling, walking out into the streets of New York as _champions_...

It's a lot to give up.

The rest of the team just perk up, spin it enough to be about the _participation_, or some shit, and celebrate the mere fact that they _came so far_, and all that clichéd nonsense. But that isn't enough to soothe the sadness in Santana, not by a long mile.

The others decide to sneak out to go party the night away – they'll deal with the repercussions in the morning, they reckon, they're only in New York once, and what harm can Shuester _really_ do? – but Santana, full of feelings swirling around and for some reason not in the party mood, opts to stay at home.

Still wanting to drink in the city on her last night, though, she goes up to the roof of their hotel, going to stand at the edge. She leans on the wall with her elbows and looks out over the view.

Losing aside, it's the first time in a long time that she feels so at ease.

There's a light wind blowing, and the harsh city sounds are somehow like music to Santana's ears, that lull her into a sense of sereneness she's never experienced anywhere else before. She really is far too taken with this place, it's insane.

It's like the Marley of cities, she thinks in her head, and then snorts at her own fucking ridiculous thoughts.

She looks down at the streets below, smiling when she sees the glee club has chosen that moment to run over and disappear behind the corner on the other side of the street. Like always, she squints, trying to scope out that familiar head of hair, but–

"Hey," she hears behind her.

She turns her head and sees Marley walking slowly toward her, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, smile tentative. Santana smiles back and nods, watching as Marley comes to stand next to her, facing Santana and leaning on the ledge with her hip. Santana looks back at the view, but keeps the comfortable grin on her face. She really can't help it, Marley's presence just does that to her.

"Not in the partying mood?" Marley asks.

Santana sighs, grin faltering again. "There's not anything to party about."

"Twelfth in the country, San," Marley says, and Santana shivers, because that's the first time Marley's shortened her name like that, and it does something to her, in a very big way. "Still something to celebrate, I reckon."

That's Marley, Santana thinks. Always looking at the bright side.

"Then why aren't you?" Santana asks.

"Why would I be there when you're here?" Marley asks, shrugging like it's obvious, and fuck, there goes the fluttering again, Santana thinks.

"Marley..." Santana says, then gulps, because what can she say to _that_?

She glances at Marley, whose just looking straight at her with that soft look on her face, and Santana just smiles and looks away to watch the view again.

"Why are you so upset?" Marley asks. "Like I said at prom; there's always next year."

Santana shrugs. "Dunno. It's been... A _strange_ year. Up and down, up and down... I guess I was just hoping for one more _up_ to counter the lows for a change."

Marley keeps quiet, just waiting, and Santana really thinks about it all for a second.

"I've just lost too much this year, I guess," Santana explains. "Prom queen, a good chunk of my status, I'm sure, Cheerios..." Santana gulps again, then adds in a soft voice, "You..."

"That's not true," Marley says immediately, and Santana smiles when she looks down to see Marley's hand land on her own. She hopes that's true, but man, everything with Marley just feels like it's hanging on such a thin thread all the time, which is pretty close to losing it, anyway.

Santana shakes her head. "Anyway, I dunno. I thought New York would play in my favour."

She glances at Marley again, who now scoots closer so her whole body is against Santana's, joining her in looking out over the view.

"You like it here?" Marley murmurs.

"It's amazing," Santana gushes. "I still dunno what it is, but it's just like..." Santana searches for the word. "_Free_."

"Yeah?" Marley says, and it's like Santana can see how excited Marley is for her part.

She loves that Marley always shares her emotions in times like these when Santana actually opens up. It's sad, that Marley still gets so pumped whenever she is privy to _some_ bit of emotion from Santana, but Santana decides then that she's bent on working on that from now on, so that it becomes a regular thing and not just special occasions for Marley to revel in.

"Yeah," Santana affirms, and then _tries_ to explain what she feels, for Marley's part, at least. "It's like... I can be myself here, you know? I just, I dunno... Do you like it?"

"I love it," Marley says, and Santana looks at the side of her face, watches how Marley's eyes light up, seeming even brighter blue with the cities lights reflected off them. "I've never been in a city this big before. Everything is wide and great and like.. _bursting_ with opportunities. You know? It's like..."

Marley trails off, but for once, Santana gets _her_ in turn.

"Like anything's possible?" Santana offers.

Marley nods. "Definitely. Cliché, but..."

"No, I get it," Santana says, smiling, because it's a fucking amazing feeling, that she finally does.

Santana takes a minute to think that wow, she and Marley are having an actual conversation, for once, and it's actually pretty lovely. They're on a rooftop in New York, holding hands, talking about their thoughts and feelings, and there's no animosity, for once, just pure attraction now that all the shit between them is gone.

And none of this make Santana feel like she's about to die.

She realizes what it is about this place, then – here, all of her fears subside.

"I don't feel scared," Santana speaks up then, in a small but clear voice. She can feel Marley staring at her, but she keeps her gaze on the city that's giving her strength. "There's just... I walk down the street, and there's not this heavy weight on my shoulders the whole time, know what I mean? It's where I can just like, _be_ with no pressure or worries or anything. I feel like I can dream up any kind of future and not panic about it all so much."

She looks down at where their hands are still connected, where Marley runs a thumb over the back of Santana's hand, and she takes a deep breath.

"It's where I can admit that I love you, without feeling like the world's gonna cave in."

Santana looks up from their hands again and takes one last look at the city before gathering the nerve to look at Marley again. Marley's lips are parted and her cheeks are tinted a pretty pink from the wind that's growing colder, and her _eyes_... Santana can see that there's a fire swirling in them, but she has no idea what to make of it at all.

Now that she's not worrying about what other people think of her, her whole universe is suddenly zeroed in one a single person. One single person that can either make or break it, and she realizes now that that's more terrifying than the outside world can ever be.

Marley tugs on her hand until Santana's elbow slips off the ledge and then Marley disentangles their hands so she can turn Santana towards her by her bicep, steps forward and takes Santana's face in both her and then–

Santana's whole body _sinks_ into Marley's own, relief spreading everywhere. Marley's lips are soft upon Santana's own, tender and slow in their movements, and Santana kisses her back with equal gentleness, for a change comprehending the significance of her actions in a moment.

For all the show they've made with the connection between them, Santana realizes, this is actually only the third time they've ever kissed. The first was hard and quick and had terrible timing while the second was drunken lust that reached a boiling point, also with terrible timing. This one, though, is nothing less than perfect, and actually feels like an actual _first_, for once.

Santana wraps her arms around Marley's middle, never wanting to let go, as Marley's lips slip against her own, once, twice, three times. Marley pulls back slowly but doesn't go far, keeping her forehead against Santana's, stroking her thumbs over Santana's jaw.

Marley waits for Santana to open her eyes before she speaks, and the blazing look in Marley's eyes, so close to Santana's own, makes something that feels like a hurricane rise in Santana's chest.

"I love you, too," Marley whispers, and Santana just closes her eyes again, lets the words wash over her.

She never thought anyone could love her, to be honest, and never even entertained the idea of having _this_, this link she has with Marley.

But here, on this rooftop, with Marley holding on to her and looking at her with all the truth in the world?

This is the first time in her life that everything, _everything_ just feels _right_.

–

After that, Santana spends long moments just hugging Marley on the rooftop, just standing there and holding her, letting everything dawn on her fully, until it gets too cold to stay outside.

Marley never lets go of Santana's hand as she leads them back to their hotel room, shutting the door behind them. Santana barely turns around before Marley's on her again, holding onto Santana's hip with one hand and grabbing her face with the other, kissing her so deeply that Santana's head spins. Santana clutches back, holds on for her life, really, and tries not to drown.

Marley's tongue swipes over her lip, and Santana's knees buckle. She returns the favour and then their tongues touch, and then Santana's legs just _give out_. Marley's arms, strong and steady, move to her waist to hold her up, though, smiling into Santana's mouth as Santana finds her footing again.

The passion flares up again, just like that night in the bathroom, and for the first time in her life, Santana experiences a kiss that's equal parts deep, lust-filled, hot, and really, really emotional, in a way. It's always in first gear with her, and she's never before kissed someone just for the sake of kissing, and doesn't quite understand why not, when it's this damn good.

But then again, none of those people were Marley, she thinks, and that makes all the difference in the world, really.

Santana wants to kiss Marley's neck, so she does, realizing that well, there's nothing left to stop her from doing what she wants, now, and she revels in it. Marley turns her head when Santana moves lower, and Santana takes her time with placing hot kisses all over the remarkably soft skin.

She loves the way Marley smells. It's always something citrus, Santana's noted, and this time is no exception. She only realizes she's stopped her actions and was just breathing Marley in for a moment there when Marley moves her head down and seeks out her lips, and then Santana's lost again.

Hands come up and pushes Santana's jacket over her shoulders, and she just twists further into Marley, returning her hands to touch Marley again as soon as her arms are free. Before she knows it, she's helping Marley shrug out of her own jacket, and then there are hands on her back, tugging at her zipper, and she finds her own fingers loosening the button on Marley's jeans and–

She disconnects their lips and _breathes_, resting her forehead on Marley's cheek, hearing Marley's equally heavy breaths being let out near her ear.

"Wait..." Santana breathes out. "What.."

"Something wrong?" Marley whispers, hands leaving Santana's back to rub up her arms, looking at Santana questioningly.

Santana rests her own hands on Marley's stomach – she can feel the warm skin under Marley's t-shirt, and Santana bites her lip – and pulls back to look Marley in the eye. "What are we doing?"

Marley smiles that same old soft smile. "I'm showing you how I feel about you," she breathes out. "What are you doing?"

Santana grins. "I know, but I... Should we... I mean, I dunno... Is this..."

"Santana," Marley hushes, then repeats, "I love you."

Okay, Santana thinks. She just nods, still not used to hearing that _at all _and Marley simply nods back, smile still intact.

She lets Marley's hands return to her zipper, until it's all the way down her back, and then she can feel Marley's hands run over the bare skin over her back, and _shit_. She pushes Marley's shirt up her stomach and tries not to pass out at the sight of Marley's exposed abdomen, then bunches the material in her hands and slowly, slowly, slides it up all the way until Marley's arms lift up and then the shirt's flying to the floor.

She can't help but stare at Marley, standing there in just her bra, and just.

_There are no words_.

Santana chokes on a breath, she's sure, because the corner's of Marley's mouth just turn up before she's reaching out to pull Santana's dress down her shoulders, then down her body, and Santana quickly shrugs it down her hips and steps out of it. It's a two-hundred dollar fucking dress, but fuck if she's going to worry out it lying crumpled on the floor _now_. Instead, she reaches out and helps pushes on the waistband of Marley's jeans slightly, until Marley nods and Santana finds herself pushing it down Marley's legs – Marley's smooth, long, _long_ legs – and helping her step out of it.

Santana kind of looks up from where she's kneeling in front of Marley and sees Marley look down at her, and she really, really can't get up quick enough to kiss Marley again.

Santana's arms wound around Marley's neck as their lips connect and she feels Marley press into her heavily, until her knees hit the bed and then she's being pushed back again and before she knows it, her head's on the pillow and Marley's hovering above her and she just takes a few seconds to take stock of the situation.

There's a double bed and two singles, and they're on the single one on the far end of the room, with the lights down and a nice breeze floating in from a small crack in the window. Marley's lying on her elbows, one leg resting between Santana's own, hair framing her face beautifully, and Santana's hands can't stop running over the incredibly silky skin of her lower back.

Marley leans down to kiss her, but she's shivering violently, and Santana doesn't know if it's from the slight cold or nerves, but–

"Marley," Santana whispers, keeping a hand on Marley's chest to keep her from moving closer. "You and..." She doesn't want to say his name, definitely not now. "When you were with him, did you...?"

Marley looks at her for a moment, then slowly shakes her head.

"Have you...?" Santana starts, again unable to ask it without feeling silly.

Marley shakes her head again. Santana's stomach sinks. That's... It's so much pressure, that, and Santana doesn't know if...

Marley nuzzles her nose for a second, pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts. "Do you want to stop?" she asks softly.

Santana chuckles slightly despite herself. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Marley just shrugs, then brings up a hand up to stroke through Santana's hair. She looks at Santana seriously when she says, "It was always going to be you, Santana."

And it just about sends Santana into a heart attack, but she simply blinks and tries to remember how to breathe.

She pushes up into Marley, and thinks that she's never, ever kissed someone so much in her life before, she's sure. And somehow, she's so content just to be doing this, without anything else.

But the passion she has for Marley, that always seems to lie right under her skin, waiting, rises quickly with the way Marley's tongue moves against hers. She pushes up into Marley, harder, and Marley's hands slip under her back and loosen her bra. She gets out of it quickly and helps Marley out of her own, and then Marley lowers her entire body down against Santana's and _fuck_.

Marley's whole body shivers against her again, Santana's following suit immediately.

"Can we get under the covers?" Marley breathes against her lips.

Santana nods against her. She shuffles and pulls the blanket under and over them, watching as Marley comes to lie next to her, pulling the covers up to her chest, flushing slightly. Santana lies on her side and faces her, puts a tentative hand on Marley's hip over the covers.

"Alright?" Santana whispers.

Marley nods, but hasn't stopped shivering, and is only now looking nervous about it all. Santana just shuffles closer, moving her foot forward to touch Marley's toes with her own. Marley lets go of the blanket and tangles her hands with Santana's on her hip.

Santana brings Marley's hand up and places a kiss on it, and Marley smiles faintly before leaning closer and kissing Santana again, softly and surely.

Santana feels super nervous, too, because this is like, so fucking _intimate,_ and she's not sure if she's getting it quite right, but the fact that she hasn't just pounced on Marley yet is already a big change, and so she doesn't really know what to do here.

She starts with the basics, and then moves until she rolls on top of Marley, never breaking their kiss. Marley's hands tangle in her hair, and she just _sighs_ out into Santana's mouth, and Santana's dizzy in the best way possible. She breaks free from the kiss to take a breath, and is pretty shocked to hear how shaky and uneven it comes out.

"Are _you_ alright?" Marley asks, half-serious and half-joking in reference to Santana's earlier question.

Santana chuckles, somewhat nervously. "Yeah," she whispers, nodding. She takes one of Marley's hands from her hair and tangles their fingers together, placing their joined hands on the pillow next to Marley's head. "I've just never done this before."

"Er..." Marley says, frowning heavily, like she wants to object but doesn't want to offend at the same time.

Santana rolls her eyes, bumping Marley's nose with her own. "Not _that_," Santana says. "Just... I mean, never _this_." She gestures at their hands, squeezing Marley's fingers, knowing, by now, that Marley will get it.

Marley's eyes soften and then Santana's being pulled into another sweet kiss. They stay like that for a while, kissing and running their hands over each other. Santana feels that need, to overpower, to take control, to just fuck things away, because her body is usually in auto-pilot mode when she gets to this point. But then she hears Marley whimpering into her mouth, softly, and time feels like it slows down, and she she thinks: really, what's the rush?

One of Marley's thighs, the one not trapped between Santana's own, move up and slide against her skin, and then Santana's feeling hot all over, and her want becomes harder to push away. However, she thinks that it's maybe morphing into something else, a need to _connect_ with Marley, rather than just the physical of it – she really wants Marley, too, obviously, but she doesn't exactly know the words for the feeling overtaking her. She's never come across it before, after all.

Instead of thinking too much, Santana decides to just feel the moment, revel in the novelty of it all.

Marley's soft sighs against her are pretty much the most amazing sound she's ever heard, and the feeling of Marley's fingers swiping across her shoulder blades is probably the only thing she'll ever need again in her life, she's sure. Marley kisses her neck and her shoulder, and Santana just keeps angling her head toward Marley's, her whole body being pulled toward Marley like a magnet, trying to breathe her in, take it all in.

Marley pulls back and then Santana finds herself hovering above Marley, in what must be the most intense stare she's ever experienced before. She takes a chance and lifts her body slightly, then brings her left leg in to place both of her legs between Marley's own, and Marley just kind of spreads her thighs for Santana, and, _shit fucking shit__balls__ motherfuck._

Seeing how Marley's eyes turn hooded and how she just seems to wait for Santana's move, Santana leans down and kisses Marley with everything she has. It turns frenzied, quick, and Santana finds herself sucking on Marley's collarbone before she knows it, and then lower, lower... She looks up to find Marley staring down at her, biting her lip, running her hands through the strands of Santana's hair. It makes Santana take a chance, and she lowers her mouth to Marley's breast.

The way Marley arches up into her upon contact is the most wonderful thing she's possibly ever felt in her life.

She keeps at it for long moments, until Marley's soft groans turn into low whimpers, desperate, and Santana's own desire pushes her up towards Marley's mouth again, kissing her hotly, struggling to keep it all soft and sweet, now.

Santana shifts her weight to her right arm and brings her left down Marley's waist slowly, breaking the kiss and looking down at Marley.

"Are you–"

"Yeah," Marley cuts in, breathless.

"Okay," Santana says simply, resting her hand on Marley's stomach, kissing Marley again.

"Touch me," Marley whispers, so softly Santana barely hears it, surprising given how close they're connected.

Santana nods against Marley's lips and then slides her hand lowers until it reaches–

Marley moans out against her mouth and Santana swallows it, her eyes closed tight, feeling the wet hot against her fingers, storing it to her memory forever.

A hand runs over her lower back and then Santana chokes slightly when she feels Marley touching her in turn. Her hips jolt and she feels Marley's contorted face relax when it transforms into a smile, and then Santana's smiling too, kissing Marley's cheek and disconnecting their lips in favour of brushing their noses together.

She feels Marley, _everywhere._

"Santana," she hears, then Marley squeezes the fingers of the hand still tangled with Marley's on the pillow.

Out of mere habit, her eyes are closed, so when Marley nudges her and she opens them, she's looking straight at Marley, eyes dark blue and searching. God, it's intense. It's like, _watching_ and touching Marley at the same time is something incomparable. It's exhilarating. But terrifying.

Santana opts to kiss Marley's neck instead. She buries her face there for a second, but then thinks how that's been her signature coward move for years, and should stay in the past, with the people she's been with, where it belongs.

So, with a deep breath, and courage she didn't know she had, she lifts up her head again and finds Marley looking at her, still. Santana doesn't know if she imagines the proudness written on Marley's face or not, but there's _something _there regardless. Marley leans up and kisses her, and then Santana feels Marley's hand slip lower, and braces herself.

It surprises her when Marley starts pushing a finger into her slowly so confidently, but she welcomes it anyway, moaning into Marley's mouth and adjusting her hips, widening her legs until her knees are placed underneath Marley's thighs. Marley wiggles her fingers a bit, and Santana lets out a deep breath, feeling Marley start moving in a hesitant fashion.

Marley kisses her cheek and then whispers, "Is this okay? Do I... Am I doing this right?"

Santana almost laughs at the innocence laden in the question with Marley currently frigging inside of her, but just grins against Marley's jaw instead, placing a gentle kiss against the skin and saying, "Perfect."

Santana's own hand moves down, and with a quick glance at Marley and a confirmatory nod, she's pressing inside Marley as well, who just clutches at her hand in reaction to the touch. She just kisses Marley again, still not being able to get enough of her – maybe Santana never will, and strangely, she doesn't mind that probability so much.

They build a slow rhythm, and for a while, the only thing Santana feels is Marley all around her – _inside_ her – and all she hears in Marley's soft moans. She starts moving her hips, and she can feel herself going deeper inside Marley, Marley doing the same in turn.

She keeps kissing Marley, even as she picks up her speed a bit. She doesn't want to go too fast, as this all feels delicate in a way she's never experienced before, but she likes the depth and strength of their movements, like they're pushing as close to each other as they possibly can.

Marley doesn't let go of her free hand for a second, and kisses any part of Santana she can reach, Santana doing the same as she keeps up the deliberate and thorough way she's moving on top of Marley.

There's this part where, while they keep up this dance, Santana just kind of pulls back and stares down at Marley. It's completely new, that, and it's something she never thought she'd enjoy, but connecting with Marley in that way, reading the passion and feelings and emotion on Marley's face while they're closer to each other than ever before is a priceless moment.

Marley's eyes close as Santana hits a specific spot inside of her, and then Santana repeats the movement, again and again and again. She rests their cheeks together as she feels herself soar higher, feels Marley's body getting close as well, and just holds on for the finale.

It doesn't take much more, her own approaching release makes her drive into Marley just that slight bit harder, but not too much, so their movements don't divert from their loving nature.

Marley utters out a surprising and broken, "I love you," and that's pretty much what sends Santana over right there. She keeps their cheeks connected as she spams against Marley, feels herself closing around Marley's fingers, and tries to keep her hand moving against Marley to bring her with. Moments later, Marley chokes out a deep moan and her whole body tightens against Santana's.

The moment feels like one in which all the scattered parts of Santana's life effortlessly come together, and like everything she has in her arms right now will be the only thing she'll ever need.

–

Santana stays frozen atop Marley for long moments, pressed cheek to cheek, hands clasped together, the fingers of her other hand still finding purchase inside Marley.

She takes deep, steadying breaths, then softly and slowly draws her fingers from Marley. Marley whimpers slightly and Santana places a soft kiss against her cheek, then lifts her hips and feel Marley extract her fingers as well. She places one leg on the other side of Marley's thigh again and rests her body alongside Marley's own, pulling Marley with her.

Marley pushes her body into Santana's own until they're lying on their sides, her head lying on Santana's arm, which is wrapped around her back, and her one leg still pushed between two of Santana's own, soft skin completely entwined. Marley's head rests half on Santana's shoulder, half on the pillow, and Santana feels another soft kiss being pressed on her neck.

She tilts her head down and coaxes Marley into a lazy kiss, smiling back as she feels Marley's lips stretch against her own, wholly satisfied. Santana brushes some of Marley's sweaty hair off her forehead, then lies her head back and just looks at Marley for a change.

Marley is _stunning_, and she's not sure how she ever managed to keep her eyes _off_ Marley, really, even in her most stubborn of moments.

Long minutes are spent like that, lying there and _looking_, playing with each other's fingers, running hands over any nearby skin, and stealing small kisses.

Until Marley sighs and Santana frowns, but Marley kisses her nose and her eyes twinkle. It's somehow reassuring.

"We need to get dressed," Marley says, tone regretful. "They won't be out forever."

Santana nods, but doesn't move a muscle, instead just leans in to kiss Marley again. She makes it deeper than the last, and Marley smiles against her and pushes her away slightly, lifting an eyebrow.

Santana likes that she can be playful with Marley one minute and serious the next, and not once feel a single change in the feelings inside of her, no matter the air outside. _Friendship set on fire_, Santana thinks, remembering the quote, though she thinks they were never so much friends as a small burning flame wanting to ignite into something extraordinary, and what just happened between them felt a lot like a full-out fucking firework display to Santana.

"Yeah, okay," Santana relents, getting up and going to sit the edge of the bed, before looking back at Marley.

Marley looks bashful at the fact that she needs to be naked in front of Santana now, and well. _Really_. Santana just looks at her as tenderly as she can, whispering a faint "It's okay," as she reaches over to her bag at the foot of the bed.

She gets dressed quickly and turns around to see Marley sitting on the side of the bed, covers still clutched to her chest, and it's impossible how charming the sight seems to Santana.

"Which one is yours?" Santana asks, pointing to the bags on the floor.

"White with blue stripes," comes Marley's small voice.

Santana takes the bag and puts it at Marley's feet with a smile, then turns around so Marley can get dressed. It's ridiculous, she thinks, given what just occurred about fifteen minutes ago, but she complies anyway. Anything to make Marley feel at ease.

She starts when a hand lands on her hip, and then Marley's at her side, dressed and clutching a toothbrush. Santana grabs hers, too, then they make their way over to the bathroom together.

They brush their teeth while glancing at each other in the mirror, and a strangely settled feeling makes it home in Santana's chest. When they finally get back to the bed, Santana looks at the rumpled covers and bites her lip, but then snaps out of it when she sees Marley climb in, looking at Santana with a shy smile.

She gets in quickly after that – God, it's Marley, waiting for her, in a bed, seriously – and immediately scoots closer. A hand over Marley's waist, feet tangling with her own, chest pressing against her, Marley's breath on her lips...

She couldn't ask for anything more.

They pretend to be asleep when the others stumble in later, Marley facing away from Santana for show – Santana couldn't bear to be the one to have to turn away again, not now of all times, even if it was planned this time.

When everyone settles in, Marley turns over again and takes Santana's hand under the blankets. Santana can see Marley grinning at her in the soft light the moon throws into the room, and she falls asleep like that, a previously thought inconceivable level of happiness mirrored on her own face.

–

She wakes up to find her vision grey. It's due to the blankets being pulled up toward her temples, she realizes, and then becomes aware of another body close to her own.

She's holding hands with Marley, she sees, fingers clutched between them like an anchor, feet only just touching each other. She looks over the blanket to see the others starting to rouse, but Brittany's missing from the room, and Santana hears the shower running. Santana realizes the reason she was fully covered like that was for her own protection, so nobody can see, and sends a quick thanks out to the universe for sending her a best friend of dreams.

Santana needs to wake Marley, she knows, but Marley looks so fucking beautiful, lying peaceful like that, and she gets sidetracked with staring for a moment. Until Kurt comes bursting in the room, shouting about 'bitches' going to be late for the flight, and everyone _really_ wakes up then.

Including Marley, whose eyes falls on Santana, then _remembers_, and sends Santana a meaningful look to which Santana can only mouth, _Hi __there_.

But then she hears Kurt stumble over to them and she disentangles herself from Marley just in time, and laughs as Kurt rips off their blankets and starts using it to swat at everyone in the room like they're burn victims.

She rolls onto her back and looks to her side at Marley, who is also chuckling at Kurt's actions, and they just grin at each other for a long moment before reluctantly getting up with the rest of the crew.

–

They find their seats for the plane ride home and Santana takes a seat between Brittany and Marley.

Santana feels surprisingly tired from both getting up early and from the trip as a whole – from this whole damn year, really – and so prepares herself to spend the entire ride snoozing away.

She zones out as their attendant talks about safety and takes a look at the club and their surrounding passengers instead. She catches Brittany's eye, who looks at Marley sat next to her with a raised eyebrow, and Santana just rolls her eyes, but can't help the smile that escapes her lips regardless. She'll have to dish, later, but is just enjoying the simple joy of having that moment be just between her and Marley, for now.

She glances over to where Marley watches out of the window with a wistful look, then joins her in appreciating the last few sights of New York.

When the plane rattles, Santana feels her eyes drooping.

Marley throws a blanket over both their laps, and Santana makes herself comfortable in her seat. Santana sees movement on the armrest, and then tucks her hands under the blanket to seek out Marley's own.

The plane starts moving. Under the blanket, Santana's fingers slip into the spaces between Marley's own, and her eyes finally shut, content.

And so, the journey begins.


	4. Second Summer

**Second Summer**

_We take flight_

On the very first day of summer, Santana isn't outside enjoying the sun like normal girls her age do; instead, she's lying on her bed, engaged in a heavy inner battle.

Well, she thinks. She's _not_ like other girls her age, actually. Not what is considered normal, in any way. It's something she has come to face violently in the past school year, and maybe, it's a part of herself that she's starting to embrace, in a way.

Especially considering the fact that the source of her struggle is the phone held in her hand, text messaged opened and ready, with her wondering what to type to the girl she slept with just two weeks ago in a hotel in New York.

It all sounds of crazy, said like that, but then, even that's less crazy when Santana adds the fact that it's the same girl that Santana told about her feelings, her very real and serious feelings – _returned_ feelings – and so, everything else just seems kind of dim in comparison to that.

It's not that she doesn't want to talk to Marley, because God does she ever want to, but it's more like, what _does_ one say? _Hey, I still love you and stuff, so I would really like to see you?_

Santana snorts. She thinks back to last summer when she couldn't even like, _look_ at her phone in fear of it exploding, or something, and barely saved Marley's number before chickening out. She's better than that, she thinks.

But only marginally, she adds, and so just sends through an easy, _Hi_.

They reply is equally simple. _Hi._

It brings a smile to her face, those simple letters, and Santana rolls her eyes at herself.

_How is your summer?_

Santana stares at her phone hard as she waits for a reply, and wonders if she should be this level of concerned about simple texting.

_Young :) Yours?_

Santana bites her lip. She can almost hear Marley's voice behind the words, all hesitant and flirty at the same time.

_Good_.

Santana waits for a second, wondering if enough time has passed to skip the charades. She considers the rules, and then realizes she doesn't know what the rules even are, so then decides: whatever.

_Are you busy?_ She adds before pressing send.

Marley doesn't bother with the small talk either and just replies with, _What did you have in mind?_

And shit, Santana didn't really think _that_ far. What does she have in mind? She just really wants to be around Marley, to be honest.

She wonders if she should invite Marley over here, but then thinks her room holds too many bad memories at the moment, and she doesn't want to bring up any of that history so soon. Besides, what would they even do? Santana knows she would just want to get naked, but somehow she doesn't feel like_, __ready_ for that again so soon, and besides, she reckons there's so much shit they still need to work through before doing any of _that_ again, and then runs through any list on _neutral _areas in her mind, where she could simply like, _be_ around Marley, or whatever the fuck.

_Up for a walk in the park?_

She cringes as soon as she sends it, though, because what kind of pussy shit is _walking in the park_?

But no matter, as she gets a satisfied,_ Sounds perfect_, in reply.

–

She meets Marley at the corner 7-Eleven across the park.

She bought them both smoothies on her way here, because she panicked when she realized she doesn't even know Marley's coffee order – doesn't even know if Marley drinks coffee – but soothed herself with the knowledge that maybe, with a few more walks in the motherfucking park, she might have a better idea of what to do in these situations.

"I got you strawberry," Santana says in lieu of a greeting, holding out the cup for Marley.

"I love strawberry," Marley says simply, taking it from her with a shy smile.

Santana's is orange flavoured. She doesn't say why out loud.

She watches, satisfied as Marley's ears start to resemble her smoothie, and then nods toward the park.

It's a nice day out, and they stroll casually along the walking path, so slowly that it feels like everyone around them is scurrying around at full speed.

"Do you like coffee?" Santana asks, starting with the easy stuff.

"I don't mind it, but I prefer tea," Marley says. "You look like a coffee devotee."

"Nice spot," Santana beams. "Good ol' Americano girl, me."

Marley laughs and then Santana's at ease, enjoying the smoothie and the sun and the wonderful girl at her side.

Santana kind of expects them to get all serious and talk about what they're doing in the grander scheme of things, but is surprised when the whole afternoon passes and she just learns all of these small things about Marley that fascinates her in ways she can't quite understand.

Soon they find themselves having gone around the walking trail three times, smoothies finished, and then decides that it's probably good to leave it at that, for the day. They part on the corner of a street that leads them to their houses in opposite directions, and Santana stands there for a minute, frozen, wondering what needs to be done.

Marley, as always, makes everything easy and then Santana's being pulled into a hug, and Santana holds her close for a moment before reluctantly letting go with a sad smile.

"See you soon," Santana says, relieved when Marley just nods happily at the idea, then they turn around and start moving away from each other.

She doesn't know what makes her ask it, but she stops halfway and then just kind of calls out for Marley from where she stands.

When Marley looks back at her from halfway down the block, Santana says, "Am I doing okay so far?"

Marley breaks into a grin that's so spectacular that it almost knocks Santana off her feet.

"You're doing perfectly," is all Marley says, and then after sending a wink she's off, leaving Santana reeling, as per usual.

–

By Friday, it's like she can actually feel her confidence increasing, and she decides, fuck texting, because who wants that when she can just as easily hear Marley's voice instead?

She presses call and listens as the dialling tone seems to go on forever.

"Hi?" comes Marley's questioning voice.

Santana clears her throat, wondering why Marley's not checking her caller ID before answering. "Uhm. It's me."

"Yeah, I know," Marley says. "But, just..." Marley breathes out heavily. "You're calling me." Marley sounds unsure, like she's just actually realizes the fact as well.

"I am," Santana confirms, and really, she shouldn't be grinning this hard. "Is that okay?"

There's a pause, then, Marley's soft and sure voice, "It's so much more than okay, Santana."

Santana relaxes against her pillows, where she's lying against her headboard. "So," she says, "let's start this again. Hi."

"Hi," Marley says, much more composed now, and Santana's pretty sure she's smiling. "What's up?"

"Not much," Santana says. She plays with the loose fabric on her jacket, then takes a deep breath and says, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Oh," Marley says. "Uhm, God, I really want to hang out, but just, remember how I told you about waitressing last summer? I have to work tonight."

"On a Friday?" Santana frowns, wondering why she didn't think to ask about Marley's work and stuff earlier the week. _They've got time_, she reminds herself. "That's shitty."

"It is what it is," Marley sighs out.

Santana sighs as well. She was really hyped to see Marley tonight, but maybe...

"Where do you work?" Santana asks.

Marley laughs. "Breadsticks."

Santana laughs now, too, because, of _all_ places, it had to be Breadsticks. Really.

"See you there," Santana says, and then decides to be a bit of a bitch and hangs up right after she does.

Everyone likes a bit of mystery, though, she assures herself.

–

She feels like a bit of a tit, asking for a table of one, but since she's requesting it in Marley's section, it makes it all slightly better.

When she spots Marley, Santana thinks it's probably inappropriate for her to be thinking about how hot Marley looks in that outfit, but it's far too late to reel that shit in now, so. Marley grins as she walks over Santana's table, though she looks at Santana somewhat disapprovingly while she does.

"Was this a bad idea?" Santana asks as soon as Marley comes to stand next to her table. "Am I still doing okay?" she adds, reminded of their meeting the other day.

Marley just looks bashful, then rolls her eyes as she lifts her notebook up to her chest. "What can I get you, ma'am?"

"Seriously?" Santana laughs. Then recovers to add, "You know, breadsticks."

"You can't _just_ have breadsticks, Santana," Marley chastises.

Santana thinks about the last waitress who said that to her and feels bad about her reaction instantly. She could _never_ do that to Marley.

"Pasta," Santana says simply.

"What pasta?" Marley says, almost exasperated, glancing around, and Santana remembers that she's actually working right now.

"Anything," Santana says, then looks at Marley with purpose. "I'm not really here for the food."

Marley grins, and rolls her eyes, scribbling something down and walking away, and Santana enjoys seeing the red on her ears and she goes.

–

Marley spends her break sitting at Santana's table, and Santana would have done the same, if things were in reverse. She can't think of a better way to spend fifteen minutes than with Marley sitting opposite her.

It's been fun watching Marley run around the restaurant like that, sneaking glances at each other, but this, sitting in a booth together and drinking each other in? It's the highlight of Santana's night.

"How's the pasta?" Marley asks.

"Brilliant," Santana says, even though it's lying off to the side now, forgotten with Marley in the close vicinity. "How's your shift going?"

"Fine," Marley says. "The customers are..." Marley looks at her and rolls her eyes. "Well, I've had worse."

Santana snickers. "Do you need a ride home, after this?"

Marley shakes her head. "In school vacations, my mom works in the kitchen here. It's how I got the job, actually."

"That's cool," Santana says. "I mean, is it?"

"Working with my mom?" Marley asks, and Santana nods. "It's really fun."

Santana nods again. She doesn't do things like that with her mother, but they're still really close. It's just that she and her mother obviously have a very different lifestyle than Marley's family, but she doesn't know how to navigate that area yet, so she just stays silent.

"Sounds nice," is all Santana says, because that's genuine and easy. She gestures at her pasta. "In that case, please send the chef my regards, and all that."

Marley chuckles. "Sure." She watches Santana with an inexplicable look, and Santana just brings her arm up and rests her head on her hand, staring at Marley contently. She can honestly look at Marley like this all night.

She catches sight of Marley's hand resting on the table, and thinks _just fucking take it, you fucking idiot_, but then Marley glances at her watch, and Santana knows she's too late, anyway.

"Need to go?" Santana offers and Marley just nods, looking regretful. Santana waves her hand. "I get it. But, uhm, are you working again on Sunday?"

Marley looks down, flushing. She shakes her head. "Only Wednesdays and Fridays," she says, and Santana smiles happy that she's getting some information that hints at long term plans.

"How 'bout grabbing a coffee with me at the Lima Bean?" Santana asks. "Or like, tea for you, or whatever."

"Yeah," Marley says, smiling wonderfully. "Sounds awesome."

Santana focuses on breathing. "Cool," she says, trying to keep her voice level. "Then I'll have the bill for now, Miss Rose."

Marley rolls her eyes. "Oh my God," she says, standing up and looking irritated, but Santana knows it's all for show.

–

"And his uncles all like, _love_ me, and in a non-creepy way, too," Brittany gushes over the phone, and Santana just laughs.

Brittany's meeting Finn's extended family in a visit to San Antonio, and she'll be away for two out of the three vacation months. It sucks, how they're getting older and shit, because this is like the second holiday they've not been able to spend together, and Santana hates it.

"That's awesome, B," Santana says, and honestly means it. There's just something about Brittany and Finn, making it in the long haul so far, that Santana likes. It's like their success gives her hope, or something awful like that, but she won't ever admit to that, so.

"Anyway," Brittany says. "How're things at your end?"

"It's fine," Santana says, biting her lip and trying not to let anything show in her voice.

"San," Brittany starts, voice mild. "Come on."

"What?"

"Have you seen her?" Brittany presses.

"Yeah," Santana breathes out.

"And?"

Santana shrugs, but then realizes Brittany can't see her. "It was fine," Santana repeats.

Brittany laughs. "Okay, then," is all Brittany says. "I'll hear about it all later, I suppose."

"I guess so," Santana says cryptically.

Honestly, it's caused by the simple fact that she doesn't know how to explain it herself.

Brittany sighs over the phone, but it sounds content, in a way. "I'm happy you're letting yourself be happy, honey," Brittany says truthfully.

Santana grins, and somehow, she just knows Brittany knows she does.

"Yeah," Santana says.

If she didn't know better, she'd think her tone sounded _dreamy_ or some clichéd shit like that.

–

Santana pays for their drinks, because like, okay.

First, she was the one to ask Marley here, so. Second, she's not daft, and so she knows that Marley's financial situation is different from hers, so. And third, if she's honest, it's kind of nice, doing things like this for Marley. As if the small gestures could somehow make up for all the shit she put Marley through the past year and a half.

Marley just looks at her like she's out of this world, and well. Santana would be lying if she said that's not the final reason, right there.

They make some more small talk as they gingerly sip at their drinks, waiting out its heat. Then Marley blindsides her with a question that finally starts delving into the heavy stuff.

"Why did you kiss me?" Marley asks softly, cautious of any nearby customers that might overhear. "You know, that first time, when we were fighting in your room?"

Santana almost chokes on her drink, but then recovers marvellously with a shrug. Marley still notices, though, letting out a slight chuckle, and Santana joins her, finding that the humour makes things at least a fraction lighter.

Santana looks at Marley seriously, knowing the time for _really_ talking has finally come. And if she needs to answer some questions for her to get to the point she really wants to be with Marley? Then, fuck it, she'll do whatever it takes.

"I'm still blanking on it a bit, myself," Santana answers earnestly. She keeps her voice low, also mindful of their surroundings. "If I'm being completely honest... It was to shut you up, mostly."

She half expects Marley to be all offended, but she surprises Santana by bursting out laughing instead.

"Really," Santana insists, watching as Marley calms down and looks at her admonishingly. "I'm... _Honestly_. But, also... I don't know. No one's ever seen right through me like that, I guess. And well, I... You're really... You know. Anyway. You were quite attractive, all angry and stuff, so..."

Santana just trails off, feeling a bit silly, keeping her gaze trained strongly on her coffee.

After a minute, she feels toes slide up her ankle, and her eyes dart up to lock with Marley's. Marley's face is bright, and Santana finds herself calming instantly.

"Did you think I was some kind of freak or something?" Santana asks. She's only half joking, because the myriad of doubts that went through her mind in the aftermath of that move isn't something she ever wants to relive again.

Marley immediately shakes her head. "Of course not, Santana," she says gently. "It just explained a lot. Why you were so... _angry _all the time."

Santana nods. She thinks back to first year, and all the questions Marley raised in her mind.

"I can't believe you heard me sing Bloom," Santana notes.

Marley sniggers. "It was the day before that weird Ryan guy came to talk to us about our dreams and stuff," she explains. "After you... kissed me, it was like my senses were aimed at your every move, trying to figure you out. You were just humming it, but I knew what it was, and... I thought it interesting, somehow."

Santana nods. Something else springs to her mind. "You looked at me," she notes. "During Gaga week. Like, _looked_ at me."

Marley blushes a bit, but still shrugs. "Sometimes, all of that feels like a blur," she admits. "I just found you so... fascinating. At first, I felt really sorry for whatever it was you were going through."

Santana breaks eye contact, then. She hates being reminded of that, for some reason. Marley's hand shoots out immediately and taps on Santana's palm.

"No, not," Marley shakes her head. "Not in a bad way, San. To me, you were just this enigma, like, I never knew what you were thinking but... I knew you were beautiful, and found you interesting, and... I started thinking about the kiss, more, and..."

Marley trails off, then, and Santana just nods. She doesn't really understand, but. Then again, if she had to explain how things progressed the way they have for her as well, she would probably falter, too.

"I can't really explain it," Marley elaborates, as if reading Santana's thoughts. "But before I knew it, I wanted to kiss you, too."

Santana gulps, and a sudden flash of Marley panting and arching beneath her in that hotel room fills her vision, and she feels hot all over. Instead, she calms herself and keeps thinking back to that first year, focus on on something that takes her mind off the heat.

When she finds it, she snorts. "You were in the _Cheerios_," she says, and it's strange to think of it now, to equate Marley with that image.

Marley laughs with her. "So I was," she says, looking reflective. "You were an adequate bully, though, so I am probably to blame for falling in that trap."

It sobers her right up, then. Marley catches the look on her face, and then seems to realize.

"I didn't mean it like that," Marley says immediately. "It was a stupid joke, I shouldn't–"

"No, you're right," Santana says, shaking her head, because a spade is a spade, and all that. Then, she thinks about what she is, and what Marley is, and how she's vowed to be more honest about shit, in the light of certain developments. "I want to be better," she adds. "For you."

Marley looks down at the table for a moment. "Everything is already better," she says softly.

Santana just shakes her head, because it's marginal, right now. Mediocre, in fact.

She can be_ so_ much better, she thinks.

And Marley deserves the best.

–

From then on, it continues in the same fashion.

Santana spends her summer days just _talking_ with Marley. She feels privileged that she's getting to know Marley in the ways she has wanted so much in the past couple of months.

It's only small, sometimes innocuous questions that they're getting braver and braver about asking. Making up for lost time, Santana thinks. Sometimes it's small things, and sometimes they're big, but they're all things Santana's only dreamt of being privy to, as far as Marley's concerned.

At times, it's like Santana can _feel_ them growing closer, and then, it's the hardest fucking thing imaginable to remember why she was so goddamn scared of letting someone in to begin with.

–

"Why didn't you sing a duet with me?"

They're sitting in Santana's car, eating chow mein take-out and looking out over a lake near Marley's house. It's apparently one of Marley's favourite _spots_, or whatnot, and Santana just took it all in when they arrived, like she's getting to see a part of Marley's psyche, or some shit.

Santana kind of freezes at the question, noodles halfway to her mouth, but then just swallows her bite and mulls over her answer.

"I was scared," Santana admits. "I wasn't ready."

Marley nods. "You could have told me."

Santana sighs, lowering her container to her lap. "I wasn't ready," she repeats.

Marley lets her head fall back against the headrest.

Another impasse, Santana thinks. She really, really doesn't want to get into another disagreement with Marley. Like, ever.

"I wasn't, either, really," Marley says then, and Santana looks at her in shock. Marley turns her head and looks at Santana sadly. "I just wanted to be closer to you, is all. The duet was a good excuse. Well, I thought so, back then. It was stupid."

Santana presses her eyes close tight. She can't handle looking at that expression on Marley's face.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice low.

"It's not your fault," Marley assures, but Santana shakes her head anyway, because she will always feel like it was.

She takes a deep breath. It's not something she really wants to talk about, but she guesses they need to, sometime, and well. Ripping of the band-aid, she reckons.

"Is that why you started dating Sam?" Santana asks.

Marley shrugs. "It was nice to have someone pay me some attention, for a change," she says honestly. "I guess I just got lost in the feeling, even if it wasn't coming from the person I wanted it to."

Santana nods. "I hated seeing you with him." She lets out a bitter snicker. "I couldn't even explain it myself. He was the bane of my existence."

Marley laughs despite herself. "I could tell," Marley says. Santana sees her bite her lip. "It made me kind of happy."

Now it's Santana's turn to laugh. "Yeah, well," she says. "It was silly."

"It wasn't," Marley says then. "It reminded me that there was something there, whenever I wanted to give up on you. Frustrated me, that's for sure, but..."

Santana nods. The box just sits on her lap now, abandoned. Bringing all this up again has kind of made her lose her appetite.

Marley's hand reaches over the console and lands on Santana's forearm. "It's okay," Marley says softly, stroking at Santana's wrist. "All part of the process, right?"

Santana nods. It wasn't in any way something she enjoyed going through, but hey. If it brought them to this point, sitting here right now, comfortable and in the process of _fixing_ shit, well.

Then Santana isn't really going to be one to complain.

–

"Why did you even stick around?" Santana is the one to ask the opening question, this time. "Even though I was awful, most of the time?"

Marley shrugs. They're in an ice-cream parlour, trying to escape the summer heat by sharing a sundae.

"Could ask you the same thing," Marley says, nonchalant. "I basically spent most of my time scolding you and shouting. How'd _you_ fall in love with _me_ along the way?"

The heat rises all the way from Santana's toes to her temples. It's true, of course, but like, it's the first time Marley's made any mention of what Santana said on top of that rooftop, and, well. Santana wishes she could stick her entire face in the cold of the ice-cream right about now.

"Uh," Santana blanks, unable to think of anything past _in love with me_, to be honest. "Because..."

She just trails off and twirls her spoon with her figures. She shrugs, letting Marley know she doesn't have the answers, either.

"Well, there you have it," Marley says simply, then scoops up a cherry and slips it in her mouth, completely unaffected. Santana just nods mutely, because, well.

What else is there to do?

–

"Tell me about your dad," Santana prompts.

They're having a picnic in the same park they went to at the start of summer. It was Marley's idea, and she brought a cute knitted blanket for them to lie on and some crackers and fruit for snacks, and it's all so quaint and somehow Santana's having the time of her life. They're lying on their backs, staring up at today's clear blue sky.

Marley breathes heavily through her nose. "I don't really remember much," she says softly. "I was only seven when he..."

"I'm sorry," Santana says, but Marley just shakes her head, telling her it's okay.

"He loved music so much," Marley continues, softly. "He always sang with me and told me I got my daddy's voice and..."

Marley's hand comes up and rubs at her eyes, and Santana's heart sinks. Shit. She shouldn't have gone there, she knew it. She doesn't care about anything but Marley in that moment, and reaches out to her on instinct, fingers tangling together easily.

"Sorry," Santana says. "It's not my place."

Marley shakes her head again. "I like talking about him," she explains. "It's just difficult. I really miss him."

Santana takes a look around. No one's really paying them any attention, and well. It's not a big city, but there's enough people in it for Santana to risk the odds that no one around them knows who she is right now.

She pulls Marley's hand up to her mouth and quickly presses a kiss to it before letting their hands rest by their sides again, mostly hidden from view.

Marley sniffles, but her lips tug up slightly at the corners and Santana feels oddly pleased with herself.

She's getting a hang of this shit, then, it seems.

–

"Were you in love with Brittany?"

The questions catches Santana so off guard that her popcorn almost slips off her lap. They're at the cinema and their movie is about five minutes from starting. She knows they've been doing this _getting to know each other_ thing for while now, but that was one question she was never betting on.

"What?" Santana says, half laughing.

Marley shrugs. "You were _with_ her, right?"

Santana scratches the back of her head, uncomfortable. It all feels even more serious than it already is, given that they're whispering in the theatre.

"Well," Santana splutters. "I wasn't _with_ her, it was just, like... we weren't... that was only–"

Marley cuts through her discomfort. "It's just that I remembered what Brittany said on the phone, that one time in second year. I kept going back to that, after you... y'know, kissed me and stuff, and..."

Oh, that, Santana thinks. There's a part of her that was always worried that that goddamn phone call would come back to bite her in the ass sometime. It seems the day has come.

"It was just a physical thing," Santana says. "I thought, at one point, that I felt _more_, because she's my best friend, but... I realized, later, it was only because she was a girl, that it felt like that."

Marley nods, but somehow Santana still feels the need to explain herself.

"It stopped after she started dating Finn, though," Santana adds. "But to answer your question, I was never in love with her, no. I mean, I love her, obviously, but I guess we stopped before it could progress into... I've never felt like, you know, until..."

Santana can feel the heat creeping in again, and she just shuts up and faces the empty screen.

"Do you still like boys?" Marley asks, so softly, Santana barely hears her.

Santana gulps. It's difficult, because she's pretty much resigned to her fate at this point, but somehow she's still worried about what Marley might think of her, no matter everything that's gone down between them.

Brave, she remembers. She can do this, she thinks, and then slowly shakes her head.

She's completely still, feeling every movement Marley makes, every sound around her in this goddamn cinema. Marley shuffles closer until her head is leaning on Santana's shoulder, holding on to Santana's bicep, and Santana lets out a relieved breath.

When Santana has air in her lungs again, she whispers back. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Marley admits. "But no one compares to you, so. Don't worry," she adds cheekily.

It makes Santana smile, nerves calmed, and then the lights dim and she sinks into Marley's touch.

They stay like that for the entire film, and Santana can't fathom how in the world she got this lucky.

–

"What does your room look like?"

Santana hears a chuckle over the phone.

"Is that some kind of hint?" Marley asks.

Santana snickers. "Maybe."

"It's... Average."

"Well," Santana says. "Am I ever going to see it?"

"Santana..." Marley starts. It's quiet for a while, and Santana frowns, wondering if she did something wrong. "My house is... _different_ from yours."

"What?"

"I... Your place is this _mansion, _really, and we've just..." Marley sighs. "Maybe we should just meet at yours instead, okay?"

"Marley," Santana says softly. "I don't care about that stuff. It's just my parents... They're... I'm not like that."

There's another pause.

"Just... Don't expect something amazing."

"You're going to be there," Santana says. "That's all the amazing I need."

Another long pause.

"I'll text you the address."

Santana grins into the phone. "I'll see you in a bit."

–

"Will you dance with me?"

Marley's room is cute and comfortable and full of little trinkets. Santana stares at every little fairy and teddy and what not, and hopes that it'll tell her just a little more about the girl she's become so utterly infatuated with.

(She paused in the hallway for long moments, looking at pictures of a young Marley, until an exasperated older Marley tugged at her sleeves and told her to stop staring, 'cause it's embarrassing, and all that. Santana couldn't disagree more, because to her it was the – and she's going to use this word once and never again, she thinks – _cutest_ fucking thing she's ever seen.)

Santana turns around from where she was looking at the items laid on Marley's shelf to where Marley stands next to her bed, expression unsure.

"Come again?" Santana says, because she's not sure she heard that right.

Marley's ears are _blood_ red. "At prom," she explains, "I really, really wanted to dance with you. In glee club, too. I was..."

Then Marley backtracks, dubious.

"Don't worry," she waves a hand. "Do you want to go downstairs and watch something or–"

"I'd love to dance with you, Marley," Santana says, surprising herself with how much she means that.

Marley bites her lip and nods. "Okay. Uhm," she fumbles with the CD player on her desk. "I was thinking, because, well, it's..."

The soft opening strums of Bloom filters through the room. It's so predictable, but Santana just smiles instead of rolling her eyes, because it's also fitting, in a way.

She approaches Marley hesitantly, even nervously, if she's being honest. Marley comes to stand in front of her at the foot of the bed, in a similar state, it seems. Marley's wearing a pretty sundress and her hair is curled slightly, top part pulled back with a pretty silver brooch that opens up her face for Santana to feast on.

Santana exhales and takes Marley's right hand in her left, and places her right on Marley's hip. Marley chuckles, but the sound is uneven, nervous, and she slowly moves her other hand up over Santana's shoulder. Santana moves closer so her whole body is flush against Marley's and their free arms wound wholly around each other's middle and shoulders.

Then, they start moving, and all Santana's nerves leave her.

They move around the room for a bit, with Santana just watching Marley for the first while, then pulling her in close and resting her head on Marley's shoulder. She's not going to lie, she totally smells Marley's hair for a second there, and well, whatever. It's smells nice, so.

The gentle swaying doesn't come to a halt, even after the song stops and they just move against each other in silence. Santana's fingers rub at the skin of Marley's back and Santana feels Marley playing with her hair, massaging the back of her scalp, almost, and she just keeps her eyes closed where she stands, revelling in the feeling.

It changes, after a while, when their hands' movements become more deliberate, and then after a while she's not so much _caressing_ Marley's back as semi-feeling it up, and, well.

"Santana," she hears Marley say, voice almost hoarse, and it's what makes her finally open her eyes and lift her head from Marley's shoulder.

She doesn't go far, though, simply looks up to lock eyes with Marley, and she has nothing to fear, no barriers or nothing this time, so she just follows as Marley leans in and softly brushes her lips against Santana's.

Santana's arm tightens around Marley's waist and her other leaves Marley's grasp to cup her jaw, and she can feel her whole body just kind of slumps against Marley's, surrender control with pleasure.

Marley smiles against her, and well, Santana's just so fucking content in this moment it's insane.

They spend long moments merely making out heavily. Marley's hand tangles in her hair and Santana smoothes her own over the skin of Marley's neck, keeping a good grip in fear of her legs giving out. Then they start walking backwards until Santana can push Marley down on the bed, landing on her easily, never once breaking the kiss.

When she feels Marley's hands slip under her shirt, the warmth setting her abdomen on fire, she pulls back and just looks at Marley for a long time, drinking in her features.

"I..." Santana starts, "Marley, we should–"

"It's okay," Marley says. "I think we've done our talking."

"There's just one more question," Santana says, rolling off Marley and resting on her side, pulling her in close. "Remember our big, like, the worst fight we had, after Rachel's party?"

Marley nods and looks pained, and Santana doesn't want to go there but she knows it needs to be done.

"You asked me a question," Santana says. "It was important, and I couldn't answer. Do you remember?"

Marley nods slowly.

"Ask me again," Santana says. Marley looks unsure, but Santana just brushes their noses together and repeats, "Ask me again."

Marley's hand comes up and rests against Santana's collarbone, running her fingers over the skin she finds there. She looks contemplative for a minute, but then her eyes find Santana's again, and she smiles.

"What do you want from me, Santana?" she starts, rehashing her words, but they're so much softer and gentler now than they were back then, honestly curious instead of attacking. The next few are equally tender, almost whispered in an effort to separate them from the way Marley haphazardly threw the question at Santana last time. "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Santana says easily, voice strong and sure, this time.

Marley's lips find her instantly and then she's being rolled onto her back, Marley undressing her so fast that her mind struggles to keep up with the process, and lights explode behind her eyelids.

Later, when Marley's working her over with a thigh between Santana's own, fingers reaching deep and breathing lovingly into her ear as Santana gasps for breath, Santana feels complete in a way she hasn't ever come _close_ to in her seventeen long years on this planet.

–

Santana wakes up groggy and disorientated for a moment, until she becomes suddenly aware of all the bare skin pressed upon her own.

She looks up and finds herself looking at Marley's face, realizing she's lying on Marley's shoulder with Marley's long arms holding her close. Her own arm lies on Marley's chest, right between Marley's breasts, which are slowly moving up and down with every breath Marley takes, inches from Santana's face. Santana finds the sight and their position isn't sexual so much as comforting and intimate, and Santana lovingly strokes the skin under her fingertips.

She kisses Marley's jaw on instinct, and the move surprises her, because she's not really used to kissing someone after sharing the bed with them. With a startling thought, she realizes that she's never shared a bed with anyone before, never slept after sex, always leaving and getting out as soon as she can. Santana snorts. What a silly little girl she's been.

Marley stirs and smiles when she feels Santana's kisses moving upward, caressing her skin, then tilts her head and catches Santana's lips is a pretty deep kiss for someone who was slumbering just seconds earlier.

But then Santana freezes when her mind expands a bit, taking in account their location and position and the fact that she doesn't really know how Marley's mother's schedule works and if she's home yet or–

"Shhh," Marley hums, stroking Santana's hair, and Santana must have babbled some of her concerns out loud without realizing there. "She never comes in here, and if she does, she's all for privacy and knocking first."

Santana relaxes and nods against Marley's neck, moving impossibly closer.

"Stay," Marley adds after a second, and Santana nods again.

She leans over to the bedside cabinet where she placed her phone earlier, and fires a quick text off to her mum telling her she won't be coming home, then immediately turns over to return to the warmness of Marley's embrace.

Marley's eyes are closed and her arm just kind of lies there, stretched out like it's waiting for Santana to return, and Santana smiles as she moves under the covers to get closer to her again. When she's next to Marley, she bites her lip, unsure to ask for what she wants. Instead, she takes Marley's other hand, lying on her stomach, and pulls so Marley turns on her side, and then Santana turns around and scoots back into Marley.

Marley's arms close around her without pause, and Santana snuggles back into her even more. Santana's been spooned before, people like Brittany and the boy she met on her last summer vacation, and sometimes even the people she's slept with have briefly held her like this, but now...

It's perfectly different, and Santana finds sleep easily.

–

The biggest differences between being around Marley before and being around her in a more official sense are, really, not actually that big.

It's more just that Santana feels settled and confident around her, like if she wants to touch Marley or tell her something or even ask for things, she doesn't hesitate for one second.

There is, of course, the other thing: that there's always been this part of Santana that didn't just think she wasn't cut out for this type of thing, but also didn't think she deserved it. But there's just something about whenever Marley looks at her with that gentle expression on her face, like they have all the time in the world,that calms Santana. She knows, in those moments, that she can make up for it all, has started to make up for it already, with every satisfied smile Marley sends her way.

–

Santana starts spending more time at Marley's house. They flit between their houses, but there's really something about Marley becoming more comfortable with having Santana at hers that warms Santana's heart. Like she's getting to be in Marley's private space, the one she's hesitant about showing people, for some reason, and it makes Santana feel special that she's the one who gets to see it.

Right now, they're watching a movie while being cuddled on the couch, but Santana has long since lost track of what's happening on screen.

It all started when Marley, like it was the most natural thing in the world, rested her hand on Santana's thigh. And while Santana's getting used to the handholds and the snuggling and the rest, it's the first time Marley's done that, so. Now she's started making little patterns rather close to Santana's hip, and well.

Marley doesn't even realize how much she's working Santana up, and it's wholly unfair.

When Santana starts nuzzling into her neck, though, then placing hot, open mouthed kisses against her skin, she gets with the programme immediately and within seconds, Santana's being pulled into a searing kiss.

Before Santana knows it, they're kissing heavily, and then shifting, and then she's straddling Marley's lap, pressing her back into the couch. Marley's hands come up to cup her breasts and Santana moans into her mouth, arching into her, basically thrusting her tongue straight down Marley's throat. She's surprised either of them are still breathing at this point, actually.

Santana's so fucking wet and they've barely touched each other, and just, she needs Marley, like, right now. She's about to take Marley's hand and place it where she needs it, but Marley one-ups her and Santana feels nimble fingers sneaking passed the waistband of her pants.

Santana breaks the kiss, leaning her forehead against Marley's temple when she feels Marley pause her actions.

"Is this okay?" Santana asks through heavy breaths. She looks down at their position – which is new, they've stuck with the vanilla option so far – considers their frenzied pace, and wonders if Marley's still comfortable and stuff, because that's always her first priority.

Marley nods against her and then moves, and Santana gasps as she feels Marley's fingers collide with her. Marley's touch always sends her into overdrive.

Not that Santana's counting – she totally is – but this is only like, the fifth time they've ever done this, and like, every time it's been brilliantly soft and passionate and loving. And she loves that, make no mistake, but sometimes she just wants Marley so fucking goddamn much that she just needs to pace herself and try not to combust.

But like, she also loves Marley a whole lot, and she always wants Marley to know that, _especially_ when they're doing this. It's just somewhat difficult, then, trying to equate that tender feeling she has toward Marley with the fire that Marley ignites within her at times, and sometimes struggles to find the middle ground there.

Like, she always wants to keep it nice and slow, to make it different from the other times she's done this in the past, but also wants to show Marley just how fucking hot she makes Santana some days.

It's just one of the new relationship type things that she's unsure about, she guesses, but... She wonders if she can like, _love_ Marley and _fuck_ her at the same time, but isn't sure that's possible, and so, she dials it back a bit, takes a deep breath as Marley's fingers slide inside her, trying not to press her body down into Marley's too hard.

"I love you," Santana whispers in her ear, hearing Marley echo the words, and then starts slowly undulating on top of Marley.

She pulls back and kisses Marley deeply, focusing hard on keeping their slow and deep pace instead of exercising the rough and fast passion she feels for Marley through her whole body. Marley kisses down her neck and Santana throws her head back and rests her hands on Marley's shoulders, then groans when she feels Marley curl her fingers.

She remembers, earlier in the week, coaching Marley just how to hit the right places by doing that, and smiles when Marley finds it, making everything in Santana's body jolt at the touch.

"Oh God," Santana breathes. "_There... _Fuck... _Marley_."

Marley moans out against her throat and Santana lets out a deep moan in reply, clutching at the back of Marley's neck, pressing her face into Marley's hair.

"Fuck, _fuck_," Santana moans, trying and failing to keep her hips in check. She grunts in frustration, slowing the pace again, but God, fuck, she just wants to move _faster_ right now, because Marley feels _so _good inside of her, and shit.

She doesn't want to like, throw Marley off, though, but doesn't know how to bring it up, either, like, _I really want to fuck you through the couch right now_ sounds terrible in her mind. So, she just presses her eyes closed, tightly, taking deep breaths and keeping up the maddening pace.

Marley notices, though, how tightly she's wound, and then places a sweet kiss on her cheek. "Alright?" she asks softly.

Santana nods against her, feeling the slight sweat on her own hairline as she does so.

Marley stills against her anyway, though, and Santana pulls back slightly to look at her questioningly. Marley bites her lip, looking shy, and then rubs her hand over Santana's lower back softly.

"I... Am I not..." Marley sighs, breaking eye contact and looking down at their bodies. "Is it not good?"

Santana laughs, because Marley has no idea – in fact, it's _too _good. She tells Marley as much, and Marley just smiles bashfully.

"Just," Santana adds, gulping. "Can I... Is it okay if I go a bit faster?"

Now it's Marley's turn to chuckle. It's almost relieved. "Of course," Marley says.

Santana nods, but her doubts are still intact. "I still love you," Santana says quickly, but then that sounds silly, she thinks. "I mean," she says, "I... I really love it when we're all slow and passionate, but I just, I _need_ you, right now, but it doesn't mean– _Ugh__._"

Marley drives her fingers into Santana, hard and deep, and okay, so that isn't an issue then. Santana joins immediately, kissing Marley hotly as she moves harder, and _shit_, that's good.

It only takes a few seconds for Santana to start moving against Marley the way she wants to, almost wildly, pressing her face into Marley's shoulder and grabbing at Marley's hair, lower body moving to and fro with purpose. Another few seconds, and Santana's coming, _hard_, moaning out loudly into Marley's mouth.

She breaks their kiss and takes great gulps of air, nose pressed into Marley's cheek, just keeping her close.

She's just about to tell Marley she loves her again, then return the favour in a massive way, when she hears a noise from outside. Keys.

"Is that...?" Marley starts, but Santana's much quicker than her, quite adept at this by now, and jumps off Marley in an instant.

She places herself on the couch next to Marley, adjusting her clothes and hair. Marley just looks kind of in a daze, sitting with her fingers still pointed on her lap, fingers glistening. The dumb look on her face almost makes Santana laugh, if it weren't for the panic that overtakes her.

"Marley," Santana hisses, and then Marley's shaking out of it, wiping her fingers on her thigh and adjusting her hair and clothes as well.

Then Mrs Rose appears in the doorway, and thank fuck, Santana thinks, because that was close.

But then another kind of panic lodges itself in Santana, because this is actually the very first time she's ever come face to face with the woman, and well. She desperately wants to make a good impression, for some reason.

"Hi, baby," Mrs Rose says, hauling some grocery bags through the living room toward the kitchen, not even noticing Santana sat on the couch.

Like a complete idiot, Santana jumps up and is all like, "Let me help you," reaching for the bags, like she's suddenly a Dickensian fucking suitor making a tit of themselves trying to impress the in-laws.

(But then again, it's not like she has any references about how to actually behave in this situation, foreign as fuck, so.)

Mrs Rose starts so much at this random stranger in her house that she just kind of gapes as Santana takes the grocery bags from her hands, completely frozen.

And well, Santana's always been one to commit to whatever she's doing, good or bad, so she just kind of squares her chin and makes her way to the kitchen, not looking at either of the Rose ladies as she goes.

–

Marley laughs for long moments when Santana returns to the living room, way past mortified. She doesn't live it down for the entire evening, Marley teasing her while they make camp on the couch and marathon Real Housewives.

She falls asleep like that, Mrs Rose letting her stay over and somehow not minding that her daughter kips off on the couch with another girl half sprawled over her, but then again, who would guess what's really happening there out of thin air, really?

A harsh ray of light streaming through the Rose living room window wakes Santana the next morning, and she realizes Marley's gone. She gets up and hears soft singing coming from the kitchen, and gets there to see Marley humming while busying herself with something on the stove.

Santana leans against the doorway and just takes a moment to _look_. Marley's hair is loosely tied on top of her head, strands landing in her eyes every now and then, and Marley kind of blows it away from her face when it does, which makes Santana smile. She glances down to where Marley's top rises up slightly to expose the bare skin of her hips, and then up to where Marley's tank top stretches against her breasts, and Marley's not wearing a bra, which... Santana bites her lip.

God, she's so fucking gay, she can't believe it took her so goddamn long to figure that shit out.

"Oh," Marley says, turning to see Santana standing there. "I uh..." She brings a hand up and pushes it through her hair, ears darkening again. "I wanted to make you breakfast," she continues in a small voice.

Santana's heart soars, and she's violently reminded of the fact that she hasn't returned Marley's favour on the couch yesterday, and walks over to Marley and kisses her without preamble. Marley smiles into it and gentle brings her arms up to wrap around Santana's whole frame, but then Santana turns the kiss deep and hard, and feels Marley's hand grip at her for support instead.

Santana presses her up against the counter and holds on to Marley's hips as her kiss comes close to _devouring_ Marley.

"Santana," Marley huffs against her mouth, "the.. _egg__s... _Oh."

Santana's fingers dip into the waistband of Marley's pyjama pants and Marley breaks their kiss to look behind her, reaching for the stove to turn off the heat, giving up her attempt to focus on the food. Santana isn't bothered by Marley turning away, actually, happy she gets more space to suck on Marley's neck.

Marley returns and then Santana pushes against her again, until Marley's perched atop the kitchen counter, opening her legs so Santana can step in between them.

Not wanting to relive yesterday, she quickly breathes out against Marley's lips, "Your mom–"

"Gone," Marley says quickly, before reattaching their lips again, and Santana's hand reaches into her underwear immediately.

Marley gasps out when Santana slips inside her instantly, opening her legs even _wider_, hiking her thighs up around Santana's waist. Santana ignores the throbbing that the move invokes, and just focuses on making Marley feel amazing right now. Her right hand tightens against Marley's lower back, pulling her flush against Santana, other hand never stopping its deliberate movements between Marley's legs.

Santana loses herself in the feeling for long moments, until Marley starts panting out against her mouth, and she picks up the pace, bringing her right hand up to tweak at Marley's nipple. Her thumb flicks over Marley's clit, once, twice, then Marley's spasming against her, choking out breaths of air right into Santana's ear, and _fuck_.

All in all, she can get used to her days starting like this.

–

Close to the end of July, Santana wakes up with a smile, knowing that Brittany comes home today.

She feels Marley stir against her, and shit, this summer is just turning out to be the best fucking one ever, because waking up with Marley almost every morning, naked and warm against her, is quickly becoming one of Santana's favourite fucking things to do on the entire earth.

It's probably at number three on her list, she gauges, right behind being hot shit, and current number one; fucking bitches up.

Marley turns around in her hold from where Santana's spooning her, and grins at Santana in that way that disarms her completely. Marley shuffles close to her and tangles their legs together, leaning in for a chaste kiss.

"Hi," Marley whispers, and Santana just grins back, rubbing her nose against Marley's top lip. "You're all smiles this morning," Marley notes.

"Brittany's coming back today," Santana says, but then is hit with another thought so hard that it totally wipes the smile off her face. Shit. _Shit_.

Marley notices, of course she does. "What is it?"

Santana closes her eyes, bringing up a hand and rubbing at her eyes, groaning slightly, and not in a good way at all.

"Shit, Marley," she says. "Shit, I forgot to... Brittany knows." She looks at Marley apologetically. "I should have told you, I'm sorry. I... Is that okay? I mean, of course it's not, I... Fuck, I'm sorry. I just really needed someone to talk to. I never meant to like, _out _you, or something, fuck, I–"

"Santana," Marley interrupts, voice still soft. "I get it."

She's silent for a long moment after that, not making eye contact as she lets the information sink in. Santana panics, feeling horrible, because, if it had been the other way around, with Tina knowing something about her that she didn't give permission for... Well, she doesn't really know how she feels about the idea. She thinks back to how she felt when Brittany told the entire school about her playing for two teams or some shit like that, and _fuck_.

"Does..." Santana gulps, "does Tina...?"

Marley shakes her head. "No," she whispers.

"Brittany won't tell," Santana says.

"I know," Marley says, finally looking at Santana again. She takes Santana's hand in hers and tangles their fingers together, then leans in and kisses Santana softly again. "It's okay," she whispers again, re-assuredly.

Santana closes her eyes, breathing out through her nose again. She feels so _selfish_. "I am _so_ sorry," Santana says again. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's _okay_, Santana," Marley says, a bit harsher this time, and Santana gulps. She hates the slight tension, doesn't know if she's imagining it, but. Well.

"Do you want to tell Tina?" Santana asks softly.

Marley looks down at their hands again, then nods slowly.

"Okay," Santana says, trying to mask the complete dread that fills her at the thought.

Marley must know it does, though, because she presses a hand over Santana's chest, right where her heart is. "She won't tell, either," Marley says, and Santana nods.

"You must have felt so alone," Santana realizes. "I only told Brittany after you broke up with Sam, and we... I... I can't imagine having gone through that without her, Marley, God. I'm so–"

Marley cuts her off with a kiss. "Stop," she whispers against Santana's lips, and then Santana does. Marley smiles at her again, and it lessens the strain in Santana's chest somewhat.

They lay there for a moment until Santana sighs, announcing that she needs to take a shower and gets dressed to go meet Brittany. Marley nods against her and kisses her for long moments, and it seems to mend whatever bad vibes were in any way left, and that makes Santana feel much better.

Reluctantly, she tears herself away and gets out of bed, looking back at Marley as she pulls on a shirt and shorts. Marley bites her lip as she looks at Santana's body, and Santana smirks. She leaves Marley's room and pads down the hallway to enter the bathroom.

She's barely turned on the water when she gets the fright of her life. The bathroom door opens and Santana jumps around, but it's just Marley, and Santana lets out a relieved breath. Then that breath turns into a gasp when Marley just strips, right there, walking over and opening the shower door, looking at Santana quizzically.

"Mind if I join you?" Marley asks, raising a suggestive eyebrow, and Santana just nods mutely, all knowledge of speech leaving her in an instant.

Santana takes back what she thought the other morning. _This _is an even _better_ fucking start to her day.

–

Brittany squeals, running to meet Santana halfway down the driveway, then picks Santana up in a hug that makes Santana squeal as well. Though, obviously, later she'll deny that shit ever happened.

She sleeps over at Brittany's house that night, listening to Brittany's summer stories and regaling her with her own, and just kind of marvels at the fact that, well.

"You have a _girlfriend_," Brittany says, all happy and filled with awe, and yeah, Santana thinks. That.

Santana laughs, then Brittany joins her, and shit.

She never thought that fact would ever be this easy.

–

They hold a glee pool party soon after that, because the club's never gelled as well together if Brittany and Finn weren't present to act as the glue, so it was pointless doing anything together while they were out of state.

It's at Quinn's house, who's all smiles and shit, even though Santana's been out of touch the whole summer. She feels kind of bad about it, but then again, she can't really be blamed for being otherwise engaged, so. It will take time, she realizes, before she'll be able to tell Quinn, and feels shitty lying to her, but. There's still some mending and growing to do there, she thinks. But perhaps, sometime soon, they'll get there.

The thing is, she didn't really think this whole party thing through.

When she and Brittany get outside, she sees the whole club's there already. There's Kurt and his Dalton boyfriend, Rachel, Artie, Mercedes and Sam. Puck's standing with Finn, and then there's Mike, Tina, and...

_Fuck_.

Marley's in a bikini, and it's not like Santana hasn't seen her naked about fourty times by now – still counting, for some reason – but like this, out in the sun, skin glistening from being in the pool...

Santana's brain short-circuits, and she barely notices everyone greeting them, just kind of half nods at the noise around her.

She hears Brittany giggle next to her, looping an arm through Santana's and pulling them away to get drinks, and it's only then that Santana snaps out of it.

"You're drooling," Brittany says, pouring them something.

Santana smiles wryly. "Can you blame me?"

Brittany looks back at Marley. "Nope," she says, popping the _p_.

"Hey," Santana frowns slightly, and Brittany bursts out laughing at her expression.

Brittany hands Santana her drink, smirking. "Let's go mingle," Brittany says. She throws another look at Marley, then looks at Santana, all mirth. "Try not to die."

It's scary how valid that concern is.

–

Santana has a ball all afternoon. She catches up with everyone and realizes she actually missed hanging around these bunch of geeks.

Everyone is so mellow, joking and laughing and seemingly not caring about anything other than simply _existing_ around each other for a change, and it's strange how it feels like coming home to something, when they get together like this, even if they're not in the choir room.

All the shit disappears when they leave that room as well, Santana thinks. They're all just equals trying to have a good time together. Even Tina has warmed up to her significantly after the whole Mike debacle, which is probably attributed to her understanding what that was about, now that she knows about Santana's affection for her best friend.

She spends most of her time around Quinn and Brittany, catching up, gossiping, the same old. Apparently, Puck and Rachel are quits, Kurt's going to try and get Dalton boy to transfer sometime soon and Sam and Mercedes are being terrible at trying to date in secret. Seriously, Santana considers herself somewhat of an expert on covert longing by now, and spotted that shit as soon as she was able to tear her eyes away from Marley.

She's been sending Marley shy glances all day, pleased whenever they're returned and whenever she sees Marley's eyes stuck to her body, also now clad in just a bikini.

It's all she can do, when the sun starts to set, to steal Marley away for an epic secret make-out session behind Fabray's toolshed, losing themselves in each other until they realize their absence will be noted if they stayed there any longer. But, at the end of the day, really.

Best. Pool party. Ever.

–

When Marley comes over to her house one night for a sleepover, her parents are spending an uncharacteristically quiet night in. They're usually working or going out with friends or something, and Santana likes how she's usually left to her own devices.

Because of that, she's exceptionally tardy in realizing something.

It strikes her, about two minutes before she knows Marley's due to arrive, that for the first time, Marley and her parents are going to be like, in the same vicinity together, and, well. There's something significant about Marley actually like, _meeting _her parents, she knows, and then just gulps and wrings her hands together.

Mrs Rose has grown to warm up to her greatly after her first idiotic introduction to the woman, and it feels somehow important for Marley's mom to like her, and so that's good.

Her parents are awesome, Santana knows this, but she still panics, for no reason at all, nerves flaring as she waits for the doorbell to ring.

Like, she doesn't want to think about it too much, because when she does, her chest kind of implodes in on itself and she struggles to breath, but she does have a grand feeling that Marley will be sticking around for a while, and she'd quite like it if her parents would also become so enamoured by the girl as she currently is, she thinks.

Even if they don't quite realize the gravity of Marley's presence in their daughter's life, Santana just... She _really_ wants them to like Marley.

But, as usual, it seems she worried for nothing, because this is _Marley_, so really, who doesn't like her? Santana thinks it's maybe impossible, that. Santana's parents treat her with the same level of fondness they show Brittany, and well, Brittany's been a regular fixture in their house since Santana could walk, basically, so that's saying something.

Watching them interact sends a spark of something to Santana's gut, and when she climbs into bed later that night, Marley just kind of smiles at Santana, the same sense of satisfaction on her face at how brilliantly that went.

They're just on the same level so much, Santana thinks, and then Santana just kisses Marley, the only way she could possibly express the feelings swirling inside her in the aftermath of her girlfriend and her parents getting on like that.

–

The next morning, Santana wakes up to soft kisses being pressed down her jaw.

Before this summer, she rarely woke up with a smile, but now it's happening almost every day, and she loves it. She loves _Marley_, God, so much.

Marley's straddling her and Santana's hands lift to her thighs easily, getting on Marley's page instantly.

It's like she's on autopilot, but somehow their movements still feel novel, and even after a month of doing this – she's somewhere in the eighties, she thinks, but with Marley moving against her like this it's pretty hard to remember just how many times it's been at the moment – she still can't see it ever getting old.

She should have known that Brittany wasn't kidding when she said having sex with the same person is better than anything in the world. She should have known not to have doubted her best friend – after all, Brittany is still the smartest damn person Santana knows.

Santana sighs into the kiss Marley instigates and lets Marley undress her slowly, and fuck, she thinks, so far, lazy, early morning sex might be her favourite.

She's still basking in the feeling of Marley's hand running all over her body, closing her eyes as she feels kisses being placed all over her stomach, when Marley's mouth suddenly moves _lower_, and–

Her eyes fly open and her head jerks down to catch sight of Marley's face near her hipbone, looking straight at Santana with an inscrutable expression on her face. Her fingers draw circles over Santana's hipbones, and she doesn't break eye contact with Santana for a second as she leans down and places another kiss right at the crease where Santana's hip meets her thigh, then lifts her head and bites her lip, waiting.

Santana won't pretend she hasn't thought of it many, many times – really has been since that close encounter with Brittany in sophomore year – but, no matter if this is their first or eightieth time, she hasn't had to courage to kind of drive them in that direction.

Santana thought she'd be the one who goes first, so to speak, because no one's ever done this to her before, Marley knows that, and she kind of wanted some reprieve, perhaps, before receiving it herself. But now, the idea of Marley doing that to her, seeing Marley so _close_ to...

It's making Santana shiver all over, really.

Santana reaches down and runs her hand through Marley's hair, takes a fucking deep breath, then nods slowly, and Marley smiles.

They don't break eye contact for a second as Marley places kisses all over Santana's thighs. When Marley takes a steadying breath and lowers her head, placing a soft kiss right _on_ Santana, Santana's jaw goes slack.

_Jesus Christ_.

There is really nothing in the universe that could possibly have prepared Santana for that, and also nothing that could ever compare to it.

She kind of blacks out for the next couple of minutes, being able to think and see and feel nothing except the way Marley's mouth moves against, around, inside, and all-fucking-over her, really. When she comes, her whole upper body lifts off the bed. She holds Marley's head close to her, feeling so damn _connected_ at that moment that it's unreal.

_Jesus H. Christ_, she thinks again.

It takes many minutes for her to recover. By the time she does, Marley's kissing all over her cheeks, and Santana turns her head so she can catch her lips, finding that she doesn't mind the taste of herself so much – likes it a bit, in fact.

The very moment feeling returns to her body, she's pushing Marley over and all but _darting_ down her body in return, not wasting a single second in attaching her lips to Marley. She's wasted enough time already.

There's no doubt about it, when she tastes Marley for the first time:

The reason she was born and put on this godforsaken earth was, she's sure, to do exactly this, forever and ever.

–

"Do you think Sue will even take us back?" Quinn asks, considering Santana's suggestion.

"She misses us," Brittany says.

"Fuck that, she _needs_ us to win, if anything," Santana offers.

They're having one last get together before school starts, just hanging by Santana's pool and enjoying the last moments of calm before the senior storm. Santana's proposed that they rejoin Cheerios together again, because, at the end of the day, college is looming and another national championship or two on their resumes could go a long way. Also, there's still the whole issue of Santana needing her power back at this school, now more than ever, she's sure. Sue will be more likely to welcome them back if they offer themselves up as a three-for-one deal.

And, well, the sentimental part of her really wants to enjoy her last year doing something that's made up most of her high school career so far.

With Quinn finally accepting them reaching out to her at the funeral and regularly spending time together after Brittany returned to Lima this summer, she hasn't fucked out again. Instead, she's kept Santana and Brittany even closer to her than ever before. It makes Santana think that this time, the peace will last for sure.

"Then let's try it," Quinn declares, and Santana and Brittany just nod in agreement. That's it, then.

–

"I want to take you on a date," Santana declares one afternoon, out of the blue.

She doesn't know what makes her say it, sitting at her kitchen table and watching as Marley moves effortlessly around the space, like she just _belongs_ there.

She feels utterly foolish when Marley just starts laughing in reply, because she just kind of put herself out on a limb a bit there, and now feels like reeling herself in as quick as she can. It's disconcerting how vulnerable she feels, and just gulps, trying to reign in her embarrassment.

"Oh, Santana," Marley says, coming to stand before her and kissing her forehead before darting away just as quickly. "What have you been doing all summer?"

And, well. Oh. Okay. Definitely a bit of a fool, then.

–

On the last Saturday before school starts, Santana takes full advantage of an empty house and spends the afternoon with Marley in her bed.

It's nice when they're alone like this, and can be as loud as they want. There's really nothing better than hearing Marley cry out her name as Santana works her up, and she can tell that today will be no different.

She's barely started with her mouth wrapped around Marley's nipple and Marley's already letting out these tiny moans that are like music to Santana's ears. Marley's hands hold Santana by the head, pulling her impossibly closer, and Santana glances up to see Marley's head thrown back, mouth open in pleasure. She just grins, before flicking her tongue over Marley's nipple again, drawing out another deep groan.

When she finally kisses back up, swiping her tongue over Marley's neck before kissing her deeply, Santana can't help it when her lower body thrusts into Marley's on instinct, and then Marley starts clutching at her in that way that tells Santana she's close to losing it, grabbing and touching Santana everywhere she can reach.

Marley's tongue is doing wicked things inside her mouth, and Santana loses herself in it all for a bit, until she feels Marley's perfectly short nails – she's been quick to educate Marley on the rigours of nail care in light of recent developments – dig into the skin of her ass.

She just kind of juts into Marley without thinking about it, but then Marley moans in satisfaction, and then Santana's _definitely_ thinking about it. Before she registers, she's moving her legs so they're aligned and then presses forward again, gasping when Marley moves her hips up, and then there's a rhythm.

"_Santana_," Marley grits out, pulling Santana's hair so hard that Santana's sure she loses some, but as soon as the start moving _faster_, Santana can't seem to care about it anymore.

"Yeah," Santana answers, pressing kisses to Marley's jaw before burying her face against Marley's neck. "Yeah."

She lifts herself off Marley slightly, both her hands bunching the covers next to Marley's waist, then starts moving so hard and fast that she hears her bed jostling against her bedside table with increasing volume.

"Oh," Marley pants out, "Oh, _God_."

Santana bends her head down so her forehead connects with Marley's chin, needing to just _feel_ Marley close but not wanting to change the angle _at all_, because it's hitting so sweetly that–

"_Marley_," Santana hisses, not being able to hold out much longer, and she's so lost in pleasure that she's not sure if Marley's close or not, and doesn't want to leave Marley hanging.

But then Marley's hips break their pace and jerks into her haphazardly and as soon as Santana feels the wetness against her increase she lets go as well, damn near shouting Marley's name in the process. Her vision goes white for long seconds, and she just _collapses_ on top of Marley.

And shit, that just wiped her mind right there. She totally just lost count of their expeditions, has been keeping up with it so well over summer, but now the numbers have just totally been obliterated from her memory.

She doesn't even bother rolling off Marley, just settles in with her head laying against Marley's chest, spending more time than is usually necessary trying to catch her fucking breath. She's totally ready for an afternoon nap right about now. They have been at it for the entire morning, after all.

After a while, she feels Marley finally starts to stir under her, too, and then soft hands start rubbing up and down her back, sending shivers up her spine. She hums at the feeling, burying her face deeper into Marley's warm skin. Marley reaches around them and pulls the covers up to cover them, then wraps her arms and legs around Santana, keeping her close. Santana's mind is so muddled, she immediately thinks of the words, _love cocoon_, and then smiles to herself, thinking how terribly stupid being in love has made her.

Sometimes, Marley just makes her remember, so acutely, that underneath all the pressure she always feels to be the shit, really:

Santana's still just a seventeen year old girl, head over heels.

Marley breaks the lazy silence with a whisper.

"What will we do on Monday?" and, well, that definitely gets Santana moving at last.

"The fuck?" Santana says, blinking up at Marley, trying to focus in her vision.

Marley laughs at what must be a total bleary-eyed look on Santana's face, bringing a hand up and cupping her cheek. "What is it?" she asks, confused at Santana's reaction.

"I was expecting a, _That was fucking amazing, Santana_, or, _You rocked my world so hard right now I can't remember my last name_, or something, and instead you're bringing up _school_?" Santana stares at Marley open mouthed, but Marley just purses her mouth while trying not to smile. "This isn't funny! I feel _insulted_."

Marley cracks up, then, and Santana can't believe what she's seeing. Her girlfriend is such a _traitor_, Christ, what the fuck?

Santana huffs and then makes to roll away from Marley, comfortableness be damned, and Marley just keeps on chuckling while reaching out to keep her still.

"Santana," Marley says through her snickers. "Come here. San."

Marley keeps Santana in a firm grip and Santana just huffs again, struggling against the restraint.

"San," Marley drawls again. She places a kiss right under Santana's ear, which isn't fair, because she knows that's like, Santana's surrender button. "It was _incredible_," Marley purrs in her ear, and Santana stops moving slightly, hotness replacing her mild irritation. "Every time this happens, it feels better than the last. You make me feel amazing."

The last part is said with lips wrapping around Santana's earlobe, and Santana just gives up her struggle completely. She sinks back into Marley and wraps her arms around her girlfriend again.

"Mad at you," Santana mumbles, but smiles anyway, and Marley just rolls her eyes at how silly Santana's being.

"I'll make it up to you after we get some rest," Marley says suggestively, and just, like – what was Santana even pretending to be angry at, again?

They just lay like that for long moments, as Santana thinks over Marley's original question. She doesn't want to be _out_ at school, obviously, but she also doesn't want that fact to make Marley doubt the feelings Santana has for her in any way, and struggles to think of a way to phrase that without disappointing Marley.

"I don't think that what we do is anyone else's business, Marls," she starts tentatively. She sighs, wondering what exactly it is what Marley wants, but then just freezes at the idea of it being something that she totally isn't ready for, because she isn't at fucking all ready to lose Marley, either. "If, er, you were looking to–"

"Santana," Marley hushes her, kissing her temple softly, tranquil. "What I wanted for the past year wasn't the whole world to notice me," she says. "I just wanted you to."

Santana closes her eyes and nods her forehead against Marley's cheek. She settles in then, ready to finally pass out for a bit, a complete sense of sereneness filling her head, regardless of McKinley looming in the distance.

She really is goddamn lucky, she thinks, nuzzling her face in Marley's neck.

Nothing seems like it can break her, not anymore, not with someone as lovely as Marley going at it with her. She thinks that she might have just been drifting before she met Marley, somehow alone and angry and terrified of the feelings and thoughts that were starting to take form inside of her.

And there, like a fucking spark, Marley just stumbled in and made everything this much fucking better.

Back then, it could only be a miracle that could cut through her darkness, Santana thinks, and right now, she's more grateful than ever for Marley's light.


	5. Senior Year

**Dear readers,**

**Navigating through the mess that was season three, I've taken more liberties than ever in weaving the canon of the show around the plot I had planned here. Bear with me, shh it's AU, etc, etc.**

**And then, it's been lovely sharing this journey with you folks as always, and thank you for the support and extraordinarily kind feedback.**

**Until we meet again,**

**Me**

**(PS. Thanks heaps to the incomparable Lazarusgirl for being my go-to for... everything, really. You're the bomb, and all that jazz. :P**

**PPS. There's a scene here that... Well, you'll know it when you see it, but: I am Mercedes. Mercedes is me. We are one.)**

* * *

**Senior Year**

_We'll forget the days behind us _

_In the light of the unknown_

Santana saunters through McKinley, pride restored, high pony in place, glaring at any motherfucker who even _looks_ at her funny right now.

She's on a mission to find her girlfriend, actually, but no one around her needs to know that part.

It's the very first day of school and she just took care of business with Sue this morning. She chuckles a bit at how effortless it went down – Quinn, Brittany and her walked in and out of Sue's office within five minutes, uniforms in hand.

She spots Marley easily. Now that she allows herself to let her gaze linger, she recognises that her eyes must have some special function: they're super adept at picking Marley out in a crowd, like a fucking homing beacon.

Santana strides over and leans against Marley's locker, waiting for Marley to close her door and see Santana waiting there for her. It reminds her of their very last meeting at the end of sophomore year, when Santana just wanted to _see_ Marley one more time, not sure what it was all about back then, and she sighs.

How far they've come.

Marley jumps a bit when she notices the presence at her side, but smiles instantly when her eyes find Santana's. Santana's smile is equally wide, but she tries to reign in the dopiness, since they're still in the middle of a crowded hallway and all.

Marley's smile drops, though, taking in Santana's appearance, eyes flicking from her uniform to her hair. Santana frowns, too, then. Marley tries to quickly mask her expression and smiles again, but Santana's not letting it go – she's not letting anything come between them, this time.

Before she can voice her concern though, motherfucking JBI blinds her with a fucking camera up in her grill.

"Santana Lopez and Marley Rose," he announces, looking at the camera with the two of them situated behind him. "Odd combination to find together, but that's the weirdness of glee club for you."

He turns to look at her directly, and Santana's pleased when he backs away a bit upon seeing her death glare. Her arms are crossed and she's leaning against the locker behind her somewhat. Not to be messed with, obviously.

JBI thrusts the microphone in her face regardless. "What are your plans this year, Santana?"

She is pure coolness when informing him that senior year is all about being the Cheerios' top _ho_ and throws in some mention about her Hispanic roots to boot, then he kills her vibe a bit by reminding her that Paula Abdul isn't on her side of the race line, but whatever. She just shrugs and watches as Marley smiles politely when the camera turns to her, and Santana can't help it. She's sure the lovestruck expression is written all over her face, but luckily the camera has left her, so.

"And you, Marley Rose?" JBI says. "Preparing for your future as a singing waitress in your mother's kitchen? I don't know if there's a college for that."

Santana's straightened up in an instant, hands balled at her fists, ready to punch a fucker.

But then she feels nimble fingers on her elbow, Marley sending her a side glance to calm Santana down, and Santana keeps her mouth shut, but her body doesn't relax for a moment.

"Actually," Marley says calmly. "I'm just going to take it day by day, enjoy senior year with my friends and focus on glee."

"As bland and predictable as expected from the young Rose," JBI starts, and Santana fumes again, "now off to– No, wait, here they are anyway."

Santana looks to where Finn and Brittany approach them, all smiles and linked hands, and JBI pounces immediately.

When the attention's off them, Santana turns to Marley immediately.

"You should've let me get him," she whispers to Marley.

"Don't," is all Marley says, relaxed, cooing the words a bit, and Santana deflates immediately. But then Marley purses her lips a bit, and does that once over thing with Santana's outfit again, and adds, "I'm used to it."

Santana is confused again and opens her mouth to retort, but then Brittany and Finn break away from their interview and push Marley and Santana with them toward the choir room.

They walk along the hallway, the four of them, and it's strange, in a way. Like, they're two couples, and while Finn and Brittany walk in front of them, all over each other and doting, she and Marley just kind of trail behind, silent and awkward with considerable inches between them.

Santana keeps trying to catch her eye, but Marley just looks at the floor while she walks and Santana sighs.

This is so not how she wanted her year to start.

–

Glee is fine bar Shuester's presence and the fact that Sam transferred so they find themselves in need of a new member for the first time since Finn flaked out on their first ever sectionals.

When Shuester ends the session telling them to make their last year special, Santana automatically looks over at Marley, who sends her a half smile in return, earlier strangeness be damned.

Santana only gets to corner Marley in chemistry, where she doesn't even think twice about claiming the chair next to Marley's own, right in the back.

While their teacher drones on about what to expect this year, Santana takes out a notebook and writes Marley a note.

_What's wrong?_

Marley looks at the question, frowning somewhat, and Santana can tell it's because she's debating whether to tell Santana her real problem or not. But Marley kind of shrugs while she lifts her pencil to reply, and Santana knows she'll get the truth.

_You joined Cheerios again?_

Santana frowns. It makes her a bit angry, because she guesses she mistakenly thought they _weren't_ one of those couples who needs to like, ask their partners _permission_ for doing their own shit. She thinks of stating this in the least aggressive way she can.

_I didn't know I had to run it by you?_

Marley sighs as she writes down her answer, like Santana's completely missing the point.

_Of course you didn't, I'm just surprised. _Marley taps her pencil for a second before adding, _You in a cheer uniform with me as the ordinary glee loser has never worked so well in the past._

And, of course, Santana thinks. It's just that Marley is scared, nothing more.

She glances at their surroundings quickly and strokes her right hand over Marley's thigh as she replies with her left.

_Things are different now. Obviously. I just wanted to end high school like I started it, and there's a part of me that honestly missed being on the Cheerios._

She takes her hand off Marley's thigh and sends her a smile. She's relieved when Marley returns it, and Santana can see it's genuine this time. She lifts her hand to write some more.

_(Plus, I wasn't kidding about those scholarships, way back when.)_

Marley's smile widens, and she leans over to reply.

_You guys still taking recruits, then?_

Marley winks to let Santana know she's kidding, and Santana snorts quietly while rolling her eyes.

She just writes, _I love you_, in reply, and she feels Marley's hand rub two small circles on the small of her back before pulling away again.

She has to fight the urge to just _stare_ at Marley for the entire rest of the period.

–

Santana's surprised when Sue elects her for captain.

True, it's co-captain with Becky, but that's still more than she ever bargained for with Quinn on the squad again as well. Perhaps, after having to bring in her and Brittany for all the conniving shit last year behind Quinn's back, Sue's grown tired of all that trouble and just stuck with Santana up front instead.

She couldn't be more grateful.

She slips into the double-teamer version of herself instantly, bent on indulging Sue in her renewed quest to take down the glee club. Doesn't matter if Santana's heart isn't really in it, she thinks, it's just for show.

Her blood runs a bit cold when Sue makes a mention of Brittany's YouTube _both teams _fiasco of last year, and Santana wonders how many people, just like Sue, still wonders about that when they look at her.

She shrugs it off, though, because whatever, she's gotten back on top so effortlessly that it won't take long to wipe all that shit from everyone's minds, anyway.

It's why she also doesn't exactly hesitate to jump up and join in the glee club's number when that stupid purple piano makes an appearance at lunch time. It's not much of a risk, anymore.

Plus, she's missed singing. She really, _really_ likes that shit, so.

There's this moment where, while dancing with the glee club but still getting the respect she's used to in her cheerleading uniform, that she kind of glances over at Marley and they sing a verse together, that she just lets go, in front of everybody, and, well.

Maybe, she thinks. Maybe she really _can_ have it all, this time around.

–

"You're really hot together," Brittany whispers in her ear.

"What?" Santana says immediately.

She tears her eyes away from where Tina is helping Marley getting spaghetti out of her hair to her left to find Brittany's eyes twinkling. She'd been smiling gently at Marley all period, ignoring the bits of food stuck to her own body as she watched Marley and Tina assist each other. She wanted to help Marley herself, of course, but, yeah. They're being all incognito, or whatever the fuck, so she reckoned she shouldn't.

"I want to be Marley's friend," Brittany says, ignoring Santana's question.

"You are," Santana shrugs.

"Can we double date?" Brittany asks, and Santana rolls her eyes.

"No," Santana says immediately. "Finn'll be there."

Brittany pouts. "True. What about a girl's night?"

"You want to invite Marley to our girl's night?"

Brittany nods. "Maybe Tina can come, too."

Santana's mouth curls. That's just too weird.

"How about we just stick to our normal girl's night instead, yeah? Just the Unholy Trinity." Santana says. She gives Brittany an apologetic look. "We can work up to the other stuff, maybe."

Brittany's pout disappears at that, and Santana just rolls her eyes again, wanting to tell Brittany to stop looking at her all proud like that, damnit, but is interrupted by the crazy auditioning Motta chick before she can.

–

It's not her fault, really.

Sue was on a crazy mission to destroy the pianos. Santana simply served as the distraction.

So, why Shuester sends her away, only he will know.

She makes a snarky reply so she's not the one left hanging as she goes, but doesn't make her feel any better, though.

Marley finds her as she's pacing in the Cheerio locker room after school. Everyone has left already, but Santana kind of just stayed there, showered and dressed, too lost in her anger to notice the time.

Marley's dressed in all purple, strangely, looking around the locker room suspiciously while approaching Santana.

"It's just us," Santana informs her, then sees how Marley's shoulders relax.

She comes over and pulls Santana in a hug immediately.

"Whatever," Santana says, but sags into Marley's body anyway. "It's not as if he won't need me again, Dalton boy be damned."

Marley rubs a hand over her back. "I really don't like him right now."

Santana chuckles. "Well, if this finally made you see the light, it's not all for naught."

Marley lightly swats at her shoulder. "Don't even joke about it. Even today's small number... It sucked without you."

Santana hugs her tighter. "Whatever," she says again. "It's just one class. And like I said. It won't be forever." She kisses Marley's neck, then realizes something. "I'll miss hearing your voice, though."

Marley pulls back and smiles at her, keeping their bodies connected. "You'll miss singing, too," she prompts, and Santana relents, rolling her eyes but still nodding in agreement. "And I'll sing to you anytime you want," Marley says, flirty.

"Yeah?" Santana purrs, running her hands over Marley's hips, pulling her closer. It becomes acutely clear to her, then, what with all the excitement of the week and being thrown into her old Cheerio and homework routine, that she hasn't _had_ Marley at all since school started, and bites her lip. "It's Friday," she starts, looking at Marley through hooded eyes, making her intention clear, "so my parents won't be home 'till late..."

Marley grins at her and kisses Santana deeply, before letting go abruptly and leaving Santana hanging there. Marley's already halfway to the door when she turns around and raises her eyebrow to Santana.

"You mentioned something about an empty house?" Marley asks, and Santana scrambles to get all her belongings together, mind screaming _Fuck Yes_ in answer to the question.

–

"You realize no one is going to vote for Kurt, right?" Quinn asks Brittany, watching as Kurt hands out some badges to some pupils sitting down in the cafeteria.

"Totally," Santana says. "Like, nothing against the kid, but he's not really on anyone's radar as something else than the gay dude from glee."

"Yeah," Quinn mutters. "Though it would have been nice for someone from glee to be president. I'll vote for him anyway, but..." Quinn just shrugs.

"I worked hard on those badges," Brittany pouts. She frowns at the disgruntled expressions on some of the students' faces when they stare at Kurt in confusion, confirming Quinn's theories.

Before Santana can pull out the stops to cheer her up, though, something catches her eye. She sees Marley and Finn walk over to them, laughing together at Finn who gestures wildly with one hand and holds his tray with the other.

Brittany looks over to her as soon as she looks at Brittany, eyebrow raised, and Brittany just smiles widely, but at what, Santana doesn't quite understand. There's something about the sight that she really likes, though, but she can't quite pinpoint what it is.

When they plop down, Quinn just smiles widely and scoots over, oblivious.

"What are you two on about?" Santana asks.

"Booty camp," Marley answers, and Santana can't actually fucking compute what the fuck just came out of Marley's mouth.

"It's something Mr Shue came up with improve everyone's dance moves," Quinn explains, and then Santana just rolls her eyes, because of course he'd be at the root of it.

"That's insane," Santana says.

"Not really," comes a voice from behind her, and then Tina takes a seat next to Marley, quickly followed by Mike. "Mike's helping with the lessons," she dotes.

"That doesn't make the name any less _insane_," Santana reiterates.

"Agreed," comes Mercedes' voice, and then one by one the entire glee club filters in.

Then they're all congregated discussing the merits and faults of the idea of a Booty Camp, and well. Santana's sat between Brittany and Marley, across from Quinn, bantering with the entire club like old days, and she can't wipe the smile off her face if she tries.

Mr Shue can try all he wants, but at least he can't ever take _this_ away from her, so fuck him.

–

After a very long period of staring at Marley in chemistry, Santana's just about ready to combust.

Marley has been sending her flirtatious smiles for the whole period, every now and then leaning in extraordinarily close to see if her work matches Santana's.

And then there was the touching.

A thumb over Santana's knuckles, a stretch that morphed into a scratch along Santana's back, fingers flitting just beneath the hem of skirt under her thigh, and every now and then, toes skimming over her calf.

Marley's been _teasing_ Santana.

Santana doesn't know if she's more angry or aroused.

At the end of the lesson, Marley sends her a look again as she stands up, leaning forward to get her bag, and Santana glances down to where Marley's shirt hangs loose.

Aroused.

Definitely aroused.

She practically growls as she forces Marley to come with her, because, well.

They haven't established a policy about sex at school yet, but now it's happening, so.

Taking a careful look around – the hallways have just begun to empty as everyone's getting to their classes, and fuck history right now, honestly – Santana takes Marley's hand and pulls her into the janitor's closet.

Marley doesn't even get a chance to speak before Santana's kissing her, hard, locking the door behind Marley's back. Santana huffs, because she really cannot unbutton Marley's fucking jeans fast enough right now, and fuck, what is with this fucking zipper being the hardest fucking thing ever to open? Marley actually has the audacity to _giggle_ against Santana's lips at her frustration and Santana just groans and kisses her harder, because, really. Marley, for all her innocence, seems to have a really fucking evil streak when she has the time.

Santana pushes Marley up against the shelves and takes Marley's leg, lifts and hooks it over her hip before putting her hand in Marley's pants, wasting no time in drawing rough circles around Marley's clit. Marley's so wet, and Santana grins against her mouth at the revelation, tension somewhat relieved at finally getting to touch Marley, but there's still–

"Please touch me," Santana husks out in Marley's ear. And then a hand is reaching under her skirt and into her spanks and, "Ugh."

Marley pushes inside her and Santana does the same, still nowhere near tired of feeling Marley clench around her fingers like that. Santana's right hand is placed on the shelf, keeping her steady as her left hand and lower body presses into Marley so hard and fast that...

"Am I hurting you?" Santana breathes into Marley's ear.

"No, no," Marley clutches at her harder. "Don't... Keep going."

They've just started but Marley's panting already and she can actually _hear _how her fingers are moving inside of Marley and they're just not going to last at all, Santana thinks.

Santana prays no one's standing directly outside the door right now because she can't help the groans she's letting out because _fuck_, Marley is just hitting her _right_ there, and–

"Oh my _God._" Santana's orgasm catches her off guard and she jerks against Marley so fiercely she's sure she blacks out for a minute there.

When she comes back to earth, she can feel Marley spasming around her fingers, groaning into Santana's neck, coming equally as hard. Santana presses harder into her, keeping her hoisted against the shelf as they both try to keep standing and breathe at the same time.

A few seconds pass, then Marley starts chuckling against her and Santana follows suit immediately.

God, she just had a _quickie_ in a closet with her girlfriend.

She pulls back and pushes Marley's hair away from her forehead, grinning at her and getting lost in the beauty that is Marley's eyes for a few seconds. She wonders what the Santana from two years would have thought of her now, the one who did this with a different person every week, ducking out seconds after it happened, and Santana can only feel sad.

That girl just didn't know what she was missing.

Marley leans in and kisses her softly, incredibly so considering what they were just doing seconds earlier, but Santana likes it nonetheless.

She pulls out of Marley, feeling Marley do the same, licks her fingers clean, and then catches sight of Marley watching the action, eyes flaring. She sends Marley a smirk, and kisses her again, slipping her tongue inside so Marley can taste herself. Marley moans slightly and it's completely unintentional, how Santana can feels herself building_ again_, just at that slight sound.

Marley notices and giggles again, taking stock of their situation. "We're in school," she whispers, like it's news.

"Uh-huh," Santana confirms.

"I'm supposed to be in bio," Marley adds.

"Yup," Santana grins. "And instead you were in me."

"Santana!" Marley pushes at her shoulder and Santana just laughs.

"_You_ seduced _me_," Santana shrugs.

"Worth it, though. I kinda needed that," Marley says, cheeks flushing at the admittance. "Did Brittany tell you about glee?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "What is it now? We just got back and there's already trouble," Santana says, sighing. "But no, I haven't seen Britt yet."

"There's a second glee club in the school now," Marley says, and Santana frowns. "The Sugar girl's dad is paying that big-shot director from Vocal Adrenaline to coach them."

"What?" Santana says, because that's all a bit crazy to process. "Another club? Sugar? Big-shot?"

"I know, right?" Marley says, looking thoughtful. "Do you remember their old director from two years ago? The woman who turned out to be Rachel's mother?

Everything in Santana's body sinks. "Wait," she says quickly. "Shelby Corcoran's here?"

She knows Marley must not immediately make the connection that she does, and just nods with a frown, and Santana disentangles from Marley immediately.

"_Shit_," she says, adjusting her skirt and hair from where Marley near-ruined her ponytail. "Marley, I'm so sorry, but I need to go."

Marley looks more worried than confused, and Santana feels shitty.

"Marley," she says, cupping Marley's cheeks and pressing a quick kiss to her nose. "I don't want to leave you here but I really need to go do something right now, okay? Will you get back to class okay?"

"Sure," Marley says, leaning in for a quick kiss. "I'll just say, _Sorry for being late, lady problems_, and the teacher will faint and it'll be fine."

Santana chuckles despite the dread that's already filled her to the brim. "I love you," she whispers, kissing Marley surely. "See you later."

"Love you, too," is all she hears as she exits the closet in a rush.

–

She has no idea where to look for Quinn in the middle of a period, and she's aware that she can't dwell through these hallways forever. She thought Quinn had bio with Marley now, but when she sneaked a look inside, Quinn was nowhere to be found.

Santana face palms herself. Her fucking phone. She digs in her bag and sees three missed calls and two texts from Brittany.

_Call me asap, emergency x_, is the first one, and the second is, _If you see Quinn, let me know immediately x_.

Shit, Santana thinks again. She calls Quinn, but there's no answer, and just leaves a voicemail for Quinn to call her as soon as possible.

She hangs in the Cheerio locker room until the bell rings, then goes to get Brittany immediately, who she's been texting throughout the period.

"I don't think she's at school," Santana tells Brittany. "What did she do after glee?"

Brittany shrugs. "She didn't want to talk to me and just, like, disappeared."

"Her house, then," Santana says, and then she and Brittany are trekking through the hallways to escape McKinley.

Like they're honestly just going to sit there while their best friend is in distress.

–

Quinn looks so shocked to see them that she just lets them in wordlessly.

Santana realizes after a while that it isn't shock so much as just plain speechlessness, as Quinn spends most of the first ten minutes they're there just staring into the distance.

Brittany and Santana sit helplessly at her sides, looking at each other every so often, no clue what to do other than _be _there for her.

"Are you hungry?" Brittany asks then, but Quinn just shakes her head.

"Do you," Santana starts, clearing her throat somewhat, "do you, uhm, want to like, talk about it?"

Quinn shakes her head again. Brittany runs her hand through Quinn's hair.

"I'm going to run you a hot bath," Brittany declares, done with the questions, then. "Then you're going to get in your pyjamas and we're going to watch trashy TV."

Quinn shakes her head but also nods at the same time, and Brittany just sighs as she gets up. Santana puts an arm around Quinn and pulls her closer to her body.

Santana sighs. At the very least, Quinn's not pushing them away, this time.

–

Quinn spends the whole week at home, and Santana wonders how long it'll take for her to bounce back from this one. It's really not fair for that woman to make an appearance now, to come and take the scab off a wound that just seemed to be closing up.

Santana can only make sure Quinn knows she's _there_, but like. She honestly doesn't know what else to do. Marley tells her she's doing fine, and should just keep supporting Quinn, but Santana just wants things to be better, to go back o the way they were. But, like Brittany says, they don't really know how it was for Quinn, anyway, and perhaps something good may well come from this, if Quinn's ever able to face this horribly intrusive memory of her past.

Other than that, Santana just keeps knuckling down on other aspects of her life. Things with Marley are like, fantastic, and with a little prompting from Santana, Brittany's decided to run for president herself, which, about fucking time, really.

There's just one thing missing.

"Are you sure?" Shuester asks, looking at her seriously from behind his terribly cluttered desk.

She's lost her patience the minute she stepped in here, and just nods, frustrated, huffing a quick, "Of course."

"Then," he says, smiling, "welcome back to glee."

She knew it, she thinks, and smiles to herself. He's so fucking easy.

–

Mercedes is a fucking bitch.

Like, Santana was all for camaraderie with the chick, then suddenly she goes and makes that inane fucking comment in glee, which – fuck, some of us actually like, _move_ to stay skinny, goddamn.

It doesn't even bother Santana because she's used to comments like that, but the worst part is Marley, who looks over at Santana all concerned and confused and like, really, it meant nothing.

Still, after school, Santana goes to Marley's house and Marley looks all disturbed until Santana finally says, "What is it?"

Marley bites her lip, stroking at Santana's thigh. Santana's sitting with her legs draped over Marley's lap, reading her boring ass assigned book while Marley watches but doesn't really _see_ the television.

"What Mercedes said today..." Marley starts, and Santana sighs.

"It's fuck all," Santana said. "She just wants someone to blame for her own fucking faults."

"I remember being on the Cheerios, Santana," Marley says softly. "The diets and cleanses – that stuff isn't healthy."

Santana huffs. "It's _nothing_, Marley. Just leave it."

Marley freezes, and Santana presses her eyes shut. She sometimes still forgets that she's not supposed to accidentally let Snix take over around her girlfriend, but like, habits and shit.

"I'm sorry," Santana says.

"Do you ever skip meals?" Marley prods.

Santana sighs again. She shrugs. "It's not a big deal. When you're on the top of the pyramid..." She shrugs again.

Marley's hand tightens on her shin. "You shouldn't do that."

"Jesus, Marley," Santana says, but it's more amused than indignant. She chuckles a bit, but Marley's mouth stays pursed. "Honestly, it's not like my bones are sticking out and I'm hallucinating and shit, for fuck sake."

"Do you _only_ skip meals?" Marley says then, so soft Santana only just hears it.

Santana bites her lip. The real answer, obviously, is _no_, but Marley's already overreacting so goddamn much right now that she doesn't want to upset her any further.

"Yeah," she says, then shuffles closer. "Marley," she takes Marley chin and turns her head toward her, "relax, okay? It's not on purpose – sometimes I just get busy and stuff."

She kisses Marley softly, then pulls back to press a light kiss on Marley's nose.

"Besides," she whispers with a smirk, taking Marley's hand and placing them on her stomach, "you don't want these to disappear, do you?"

Marley frowns. "I don't care about that, Santana. I just want you to be okay."

"You make me okay," Santana says sincerely, then kisses Marley, again and again, and doesn't stop until she's pinning Marley to the couch and Marley's gasping for breath beneath her.

–

Marley wasn't as distracted by their couch session as Santana had hoped, though, because for the next week she dotes on Santana like nobody's fucking business. She makes Santana crazy meals for lunch every afternoon they get home, and brings an extra packed lunch for Santana at school, cafeteria be damned, making sure she's always right at Santana's side, watching her eat like a hawk. Santana's phone rings every night around dinner time, Marley's casual voice anything but subtle when she asks what Santana's mom is making to eat tonight.

It all amuses Santana greatly, and she just lets Marley do her thing, but it also...

There's a feeling that grows inside her, when Marley tries to take care of her like that, that when she acknowledges it, it just feels like a massive fucking bomb is about to explode in her chest. She can't help but smile, when she sees Marley monitoring her, or whatever the fuck, and she just focuses on what she's doing and tries not to fucking combust.

And well, being on the Cheerios is a lot of fucking pressure, but after surviving McKinley last year without the uniform, she knows that shit won't all fall apart if something were to happen, this time. It's all a bit reassuring, and the weight she always felt that comes with the power is barely there any more, so.

So, she decides, fuck it, 'cause if she's going to fucking enjoy her senior year, she's not going to do it while occasionally making herself sick in some crazy effort to be perfect. The glee club has done more than enough in convincing her that acceptance is actually a tangible, realistic fucking idea. So has Brittany and her girlfriend, and well, Santana's just happy that she's not the girl she was anymore, so why should she still do the things that stupid little girl did?

It comes without prelude – she just makes a decision one afternoon, watching as Marley whips her up a sandwich from her seat in the Rose kitchen, sitting with her head in her head and staring at how beautiful Marley is, happy and healthy without caring about anything else than that fact.

Her girlfriend is a marvel, and an inspiration, and a fucking amazing human being, Santana thinks, as Marley pushes the plate over to her with that soft smile she only ever gives Santana.

And really, Santana thinks as she takes a hold of her food with one hand and Marley's with the other, who needs purging and stressing and all that shit when she's got this?

–

"Are you going to audition?" Santana asks Quinn at lunch.

Quinn's been slowly getting back to form, getting used to Shelby's presence at the school, and Santana wants more than anything to get her to join something that'll take her mind off it for a bit. She also wants all her favourite people to do something together, for old time sake.

Quinn shrugs. "I dunno."

"Come on, Q." Santana pushes an elbow lightly in Quinn's side. "Brittany and Marley are trying out, too. It won't be the same without you."

Quinn frowns and looks at Santana suspiciously. "Why would I care about Marley joining?"

"I mean, like, all the glee kids. It'll be all of us, anyway," Santana says. "Or well, except Finn, who's non-existent dance moves render him useless to every single number."

That finally makes Quinn smile a bit. "I'll see."

It's more than Santana can hope for.

–

Basically, whoever _doesn't_ vote for Brittany after the wicked pep rally they put on is a fucking idiot.

The performance gave Santana such a massive high that she blanks out on anything else than the thundering applause of their peers.

But then, this thing happened, and now Santana's probably in the most awkward situation she's ever been in.

See, earlier, after that banging show, in glee, Brittany just kind of asked Marley, all casual like, "Come over to my house later, Santana and I are making posters for my campaign and it'll be a lot of fun."

And now, Santana's sitting on Brittany's bed, scissors in hand and cutting out pictures of printed fucking hearts, mouth completely shut while Marley and Brittany prattle on about colour schemes, completely oblivious to Santana's distress.

Like, this is her girlfriend and her best friend in the same room. She has had sex with both of the girls currently sat in front of her. She is having recurring sex with one, and the other is fully aware of that fact, and Santana is in the middle of a mild fucking panic attack sitting there in silence, really.

She and Marley have never been in this situation, ever. At school, they pretend to be acquaintances at most. Even though Brittany and Tina know about them, they're not really _themselves_ around each other in the presence of anyone else. And now, for the first time, it's like they're exposed, in a way. Marley seems so relaxed with it, but Santana doesn't know how to fucking act. She has barely even looked at Marley since they got here, never mind touched her, and luckily no mention has even been made about the fact that they are like, _dating_. Like,_ legit_.

"Santana?" comes Brittany's voice, and Santana snaps out of her thoughts, looking up to find both girls looking at her questioningly. She gulps.

She makes some noise that sounds like,_ Hngh?_ But Brittany doesn't pay it any mind, just gestures for the scissors to be passed on.

And then Santana's just sitting there, wringing her hands together, with nothing to fucking do. She looks around Brittany's room like she doesn't already have every fucking inch memorised, and then her eyes land on Marley's own, who looks at her strangely, then just winks at Santana. Santana's heart stops, and her eyes flicker over to Brittany quickly, who didn't see, as she's engrossed with whatever she's cutting now.

She looks back to Marley, who looks close to laughing, and honestly, none of this is funny. Then Brittany's pushing back the scissors and for lack of something to do, Santana just starts cutting again.

And that's it. They just finish their jobs for the rest of the afternoon, Marley and Brittany laughing and bonding while Santana just kind of sits there like a twat, busying her hands with any small job they give her. Santana and Marley like, leave together, and Santana is the odd one out, actually, when Brittany greets them at the door, giving Marley a bear hug and telling Santana she'll see her tomorrow.

She just walks down the driveway and gets in her car with Marley, kind of thrown that nothing disastrous went down, silent in the car as Marley tells her how much fun that was, and how much she likes Brittany, which...

...was kind of the entire fucking point, Santana realises belatedly, and does everything she can not to face palm herself.

–

"What's on your mind?"

Marley's been distracted all day, and now she's even getting basic shit wrong in chemistry, and that's how Santana knows there's _really_ something wrong.

Marley shrugs, doodling on the corner of her page and glancing at the people around them.

"Did I do something wrong?" Santana asks immediately, and Marley snorts.

Well, Santana thinks, rolling her eyes, she's happy her concern is such a great source of amusement, then. She huffs and straightens up but Marley just snorts again and reaches for her.

"You're cute," Marley whispers, and Santana wants to object to the use of that terrible, terrible word, but seems unable to when Marley's fingertips quickly brush over her knuckles. "Of course you didn't, I'm just... Who did you audition for?"

"West Side Story?" Santana asks, and Marley nods. "Anita."

Marley smiles. "You're perfect for it," she says, but it's almost sad, and Santana knows what's up immediately.

"You want Maria," Santana says, not asking at all.

Marley sighs again. "I don't have Rachel's voice. Or Mercedes'."

Santana scoots closer. She really wishes they were alone right now, so she can hold Marley close. "You're right, you don't. You have your own voice, a fucking amazing one, Marley," Santana says. "You'd be the perfect Maria."

Marley shakes her head, wanting to object, but Santana doesn't let her.

"You can't wait anymore, this is our last year," Santana says seriously. "If you want it, go for it, sweetheart, I'll be right behind you, okay?"

For some reason, Marley's head shoots up and looks at her curiously. Santana smiles.

"So, you'll tell Artie you want to audition again?" Santana asks, satisfied she got through there.

"You called me sweetheart," Marley says softly, and Santana blanches.

She looks around carefully, but no one's paying them any attention. "Er..." They haven't done the whole pet name thing, ever, but Santana doesn't know, it just kind of slipped out, in that moment. She's always thought of Marley as _sweet_, so it just seemed to fit for her. "Is that not okay?"

Marley smiles, head shaking. "It's okay," she assures her. "It's great, actually." She flushes slightly and Santana smiles.

"Okay," Santana says, also shy, for some reason. Like, the myriad of times they've had sex or not, sometimes the small, novel shit still gets to her. "You can too, if you want, obviously," Santana says, somewhat awkward. "Just don't call me your _boo_, or some shit, and you're golden."

Marley chuckles. "Just... You can't do things like that when we're in class," Marley says seriously. "I want to kiss you a lot right now."

Santana smiles. The teacher interrupts them, letting them know revision time is up, and Marley sighs as she looks back to him, ready to take some more notes.

Santana keeps watching her, though, and when Marley turns to her later, she just mouths _s__weetheart_, again, and Marley just bites her lips and rolls her eyes.

Her ears a red as shit, though, so the act doesn't fool Santana one bit.

–

Santana doesn't expect what happens next.

It becomes a fucking battle, of sorts, gunning for the role of Maria, and like, shit. She's not even that dope, and her boy gets smashed, and like, Santana can't understand why all these girls want this part so much, but whatever.

Santana, biased or not, honestly thinks Marley is the fucking bomb. She's not what you'd expect for the role – not in the way Mercedes is, that it's a visual thing, where the uniqueness of a completely unexpected casting is more striking than the actual performance itself. It's also not like Rachel, where her Broadway-style voice and persona fits the role so perfectly that you'd feel comfortable watching the performances, like this is just another West Side Story, exactly what you paid to see.

No, Marley is something else – a different kind of voice, a different presence, someone who transforms the role itself into something wholly new. Just like Santana came to know Marley, she can imagine the audience watching her girlfriend on opening night, mousy and beautiful and ordinary, until she bears her soul and her voice and becomes the most captivating creature alive.

Santana can already see how Marley would take the audience on a journey, completely throwing them off their axes, reinventing something they're all familiar with, but still worming her way into their hearts, letting them change their view on the play forever.

Or maybe she's just projecting, but whatever.

She watches from behind the stage as Marley does exactly that, though, singing their like _battle_ song in such a wonderfully disparate way from Mercedes and Rachel that the exact contrast Santana was just imagining is proved to be correct in an incredibly vivid manner, especially viewed alongside the other performances.

She just hopes that Beiste, Wheels and Pillsbury sees that as well.

–

When she goes to see the casting list, Santana is kind of pleasantly surprised to see her name next to Anita's. Like, she knows she's the fucking boss, but she just enjoys getting a confirmation on it every now and again.

Her eyes flick up and she sees, written next to Maria, her girlfriend's name, and, fuck, _yes_. Her joy at that completely overshadows even that of her own casting, and that's probably a sign of being like, _legit_ in love.

She looks to her left to see Marley approach the notice board cautiously, biting her lip, and Santana can't help it when she gives it all away, looking at her with a great smile.

Marley can read it on Santana's face, and her hand goes up to her mouth in shock and delight.

Santana doesn't give a fuck in that moment, really, she runs over to Marley and all but tackles her in a hug right there in the middle of the hallway. They can have this one moment, Santana thinks. God, they deserve at least this one.

"Thank you," Marley whispers in her ear, but Santana just shakes her head, because that was all her girlfriend.

Her crazy talented, amazing, wonderful, fucking perfect girlfriend.

–

"I'm going to babysit Beth tonight," Quinn tells her and Brittany in the Cheerio locker room after everyone leaves.

Brittany throws Santana a look. "That's wonderful, Q," she says, and Santana murmurs her agreement.

"I don't know if I can do that," Quinn admits, then, and Santana notices her hands shaking.

Santana looks at Brittany again, who just nods at her, and she walks forward and puts her arm on Quinn's lower back.

"Remember in our freshman year when coach told us she'd never made a freshman captain and jokingly said you could only have it if you could do a crazy quadruple roundoff back somersault?" Santana asks. "We didn't even know what the fuck that was, yet, but you just like stood up and did a stupid fucking handstand for like a whole damn minute, and said, _That's not it, but it's something, _and Sue just said, fuck it, that's stubbornness incarnate and you were captain on the spot at expense of that senior ginger bitch?"

Santana takes a deep breath after talking so quickly, and Quinn just kind of snorts at the memory.

"Right," Santana says. "So don't tell me you can't change a simple fucking diaper, alright?"

Quinn's snort morphs into a full blown laugh then, and Santana smiles.

"Okay?" Santana says.

"Okay," Quinn nods, and then squares her shoulders in that way that tells Santana shit needs to make way, 'cause the queen's on her way.

It makes her oddly proud, in a way, and the satisfied smile Brittany sends her way makes it all even better.

–

Santana's quite stumped when Mercedes tells her that she's leaving glee.

She likes Wheezy, most times, and thinks it'll be sad to have her leave. What's more, it's sad that they'll probably be like, _competing_ now.

She's even more stumped when Mercedes asks Santana to join her.

She gets it – that first thrill when performing Valerie is still vivid in her mind at times, and she gets tired of the inequality, too, even more so now that Dalton boy's taking over solos as well, but.

There's Marley, and Brittany, and Quinn to think about, too, and she doesn't want to leave any of them behind.

She tells Mercedes she'll think about it, and Mercedes just nods and darts off. When Santana turns around, Finn's standing there, frowning.

Santana sighs. "Heard that?"

"Are you really thinking about leaving?" he asks, voice low and worried.

"I dunno," Santana says honestly. She gestures for Finn to walk with her. "I know you like Shuester and all, but Mercedes has a point."

"But we're a _team_," Finn implores.

"Hudson," Santana sighs. "Just give me time to breathe, okay?"

She leaves him in the hallway, his mind probably turning, but it's not even half of how Santana's head is spinning, she's sure.

–

Brittany finds her at lunch, just when she was about to tell Marley about Mercedes.

"You're leaving glee?" she asks wildly, sitting down with a frown.

Marley turns to Santana. "What? Is that true, Santana?"

Santana sighs. "Alright, firstly, you need to tell your boyfriend to calm down," Santana tells Brittany, then faces Marley, "and secondly, I was just about to talk to you about it, love, so you should–"

Her eyes widen and she looks over to Brittany, whose frown is now replaced with a smile, and God, is Santana glad she can't blush at times like these.

Santana looks at her lap when she speaks the next few words, softly, almost to herself. "Mercedes wants me to join. But I'm not going if you guys aren't, of course."

"Santana," Brittany starts, waiting until Santana looks at her before speaking, "I love Mercedes, but I love the New Directions, too. Finn's there, and Quinn and Marley and all of us."

Santana looks to Marley, who just shrugs at Santana. "I'm with Brittany, San," she says. "We've got a good thing going. I know you get frustrated, but..."

Santana nods. That's settled, then. There's really no reason for her to be deferring when her girlfriend and her best friend aren't coming with her.

Besides, Santana remembers her track record of signing with Mercedes and Marley's less than happy reactions to it, and thinks it might be better to steer clear of that, anyway, in retrospect.

–

Mercedes manages to recruit some of the Cheerios and Santana sneaks in with Brittany to watch one of their performances, curious as to what they're missing out on. They're surprisingly good, Santana thinks, but it still feels unevenly matched, somehow, with just Mercedes against the lot of them.

That is, until later the week, when Santana's hit with a curveball.

This is how Quinn explains it: "Mercedes was quite convincing."

But Santana knows it's about her kid.

"You joining the Troubletones won't change anything, Q," Santana begs. "You're still going to see Beth, and Shelby will still like you and all."

Quinn just shrugs. "It's not about that," Quinn lies. "But if it gets me closer to her, well..."

Santana sighs. "Damnit, Q."

"I'm sorry," Quinn says, and Santana just waves her off. It sucks, but Santana can't do much about it, so.

"Cheerios isn't going anywhere," Quinn says. "Neither am I. I know where you live."

Santana snickers. It's not very reassuring, but whatever. She respected Quinn's decisions back when she chose to have the kid instead of making things easier for herself, so she'll respect Quinn's decisions now, even if, like back then, Santana thinks them to be fucking stupid.

–

It's a strange new normal that Santana enters, having two glee clubs at the school, juggling everything along with the play, which is actually something Santana enjoys doing.

Don't get her wrong, she's not suddenly Berry, but working toward something amazing, acting a full story out like this is wonderfully different to singing for glee or dancing for cheerleading, and it never ceases to surprise her how much she actually likes being on stage.

Another plus point is that she gets to rehearse with Marley most of the time. The earlier parts, I Feel Pretty and the lot, are so easy to get down, because she's just having fun with her girlfriend and friends, really. Seeing Marley centre stage like that and taking charge is as intoxicating as it is electrifying, and more often than not, Santana's speeding to either of their homes to pull Marley to a bedroom and jump her.

It's funny, the fact that she can't really muster up the full extent of the anger Anita needs to show toward Maria, and how Artie's constant, "You really don't like her right now, Santana, try to be a bit more aggressive," just makes her crack up instead.

What also makes her crack up is Blaine permanently walking on his toes around Marley, suddenly insecure about his height with Marley being maybe like one millimetre taller than him, but it's really not that noticeable. It means Marley can't wear any heels, but Marley's just thankful for that part and her comfortable as shit shoes, so.

Santana nails the A Boy Like That part easily, tuning in to her age-old dislike for Sam to get it down, but as opening night approaches, though, Artie starts placing more emphasis on the latter half of the song. Even Santana can admit that they're not hitting the intensity there, but like, this is Marley, who brings out all the softness in her, so really.

She tries hard to concentrate, but after a while it isn't needed, because hearing those lyrics, Marley uttering her part about forbidden love and the helplessness of it, over and over again, it's a very sobering thing, and puts Santana in a mood easily. Santana can see it hitting Marley as well, and begins to see Marley look at Tina and Mike being all affectionate during rehearsals with a longing stare more often than not, and well.

Suddenly, nothing about the whole thing is that fun anymore.

"That's _it,_ Santana!" Artie yells at her one afternoon, catching the pained expression on her face as she listens to Marley brokenly sing, _Right or wrong, what else can I do? _

And right, Marley knew what they were getting in to, here, and Santana knew too, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt like a motherfucker.

–

They don't talk about it. Santana doesn't want anything to distract them, not when they're so close to the play and Marley's about to rock the fucking house.

When opening night finally arrives, Santana finds herself stripped from the normal nervousness she has before going on stage, and guesses it's because there's no trophy attached to it here, only a pure, simple performance, and that changes everything, it seems.

She finds Marley backstage, hair and make-up done prettily and just looking absolutely stunning, all around. Santana really wants to kiss her, but also doesn't want to ruin their lipstick, and there are people around, so.

She walks over and pulls Marley into tight hug.

"You look awesome," Santana whispers into her ear.

"So do you," Marley whispers back, and Santana can tell she's smiling.

"You're going to be so amazing, Marley."

"So will you."

Santana laughs a bit and pulls back. She mouths, _I love you_ and smiles as Marley mouths it back, and then they're being called to their places and part reluctantly.

–

Santana lifts her hands in the air after her performance, because she just _knows_.

She knows she was amazing. Her girlfriend was out of this world, of course, but Santana knows she rocked it as well.

She also knows she's addicted to this feeling, now, and wonders what that means for her future.

–

Quinn's babysitting turns into a regular thing, and out of the blue, she asks Brittany and Santana to join her.

Santana fucking despises kids, but this is her mate's baby, so she guesses she needs to make an exception here.

It sucks, because she has a date with Marley tonight, but doesn't quite know how to excuse herself with Quinn. As far as Quinn knows, the only two people Santana cares to spend time with are currently sat at their table.

"Sure!" Brittany pipes up, then both her and Quinn look at Santana expectantly, and she fumbles for words.

"Uhm," Santana starts, grasping. "Uhm, yeah, of course. But uhm. I– Can Marley come?"

Quinn frowns heavily, and Santana curses internally, thinking up an excuse.

"We were going to celebrate rocking West Side Story tonight, you know," Santana says, wondering if her voice is shaking as much as she thinks it is. "So, I don't want to leave her hanging, or whatever."

She clears her throat and tries to ignore how Quinn's vague and suspicious look returns, looking at Brittany instead. Brittany's smiling into her hand, trying not to laugh, and Santana looks away from her, too. She's just left to drift here, really.

Quinn's frown turns into a smile, though, and she says, light, "I like Marley a lot, remember?"

A good as answer as any, Santana supposes.

–

It's weird, looking at Quinn holding her child. The little thing looks so much like her friend, and like, well. Santana's always known there was a little tike out there somewhere that's half part of Quinn, but actually _seeing_ it happen in front of her...

It's just fucking weird.

Quinn and Marley get along just fine, and the whole night is a mixture of the four of them chatting about simple shit like what the Troubletones and New Directions are planning for their mash-off songs along with general and random McKinley gossip.

Later, Marley holds Beth and plays with her tiny little fingers, and well, if she thought it was weird for Quinn to be holding that girl, it doesn't even hold a candle to _this_.

Santana politely declines – she'll probably just drop the kid on her head, or something – and is content to just watch them all interact like this is something they do every weekend.

(She'd kind of like it to be, if she's being honest.)

It all goes swimmingly, until when they leave, Quinn kind of pulls Santana aside and just says, "So, you and Marley, huh?"

Santana's whole body freezes. "W-what?"

"You've never been good with hiding this stuff, S," Quinn says, somewhat fondly, and Santana still just kind of stands there, flabbergasted.

"Uhm, no, it's not–" Santana starts, but Quinn just rolls her eyes.

"Please," Quinn says. "Don't even try, Santana."

Santana's sure she looks like a fish right about now.

Quinn chuckles. "Off you go, they're waiting for you."

Quinn pushes at Santana and Santana moves on autopilot, mind whirring and body taking one step after the next, not really registering the movements.

Before she knows it, she's outside Shelby's apartment with Marley and Brittany, walking down the sidewalk with them in silence.

They're chatting too animatedly to notice Santana's turmoil, but shit, Santana thinks.

Just, shit.

–

"Babe?" Marley asks her later, quietly, as they're brushing their teeth in Marley's bathroom.

Santana must have spaced out on the entire drive back home, because she doesn't even remember getting here, really.

"Huh?" Santana says, mouth filled with toothpaste.

"I asked what's up?" Marley elaborates, wiping her mouth with a towel and putting her brush in her cup. "You've been quiet since we left Quinn. Did something happen?"

Santana nods mutely, knowing there's a grimace on her face. She ignores Marley's questions and just rinses her mouth and pulls Marley into her bedroom.

"Quinn asked me if we were together and I told her no but she didn't believe me," Santana rushes out, panicking, remembering how Marley didn't react to this so well the last time.

She closes her eyes and kind of braces herself for the fallout, but after Marley stays quiet, she opens them to see Marley just smiling at her softly.

"It's okay," Marley says, moving forward to wrap Santana in her arms. "It's just Quinn, right?"

Santana frowns. "Why aren't you freaking out? I'm freaking out."

"It's just Quinn," Marley repeats. "She's important to you, yeah?"

"Yes, but–"

"Things could be worse, Santana," Marley says. "It's just Quinn," she says again, and Santana can't place the reason behind the emphasis.

She just frowns, but then Marley leans up and kisses her deeply, and it smoothes the lines on her forehead out easily.

–

Marley's incessant focus on _just Quinn_ becomes clear soon after that.

"Are we ever going to tell anyone?" Marley asks her one afternoon, while they're lying on Santana's bed, homework finished and listening to music.

Santana's hand stills where it was playing with Marley's hair.

"Where is this coming from?" Santana asks, but really–

"You know where," Marley states simply. "I know you've been feeling it, too. I see Brittany and Finn all the time, and Tina and Mike, and I just feel... It's not fair, sometimes."

Santana sighs. She turns on her side and pulls Marley close. "Marley..."

"Quinn just guessed it, and nothing bad happened," Marley insists.

"That's different," Santana says. "Do you _want_ to tell everybody now?"

"Not everyone," Marley shrugs. "I just... I was thinking, I want to, maybe, talk to my mom about–"

"Whoa, Marley," Santana says, sitting up. "That's not–"

"She'll be fine," Marley says, sitting up as well, leaning onto Santana's shoulder.

"You don't know that, Marley," Santana says. "You never know what's going to happen. We're just in high school. God, we've only been together for like three months, I mean, it's such a–"

"Calm down, San," Marley says, putting her arms around Santana's waist and placing light kisses on her shoulder. "It's just my mom."

"I'm hearing a lot of, _It's just this person, and this person_, but soon it'll be everyone, and then people are pointing at us in the street and treating us like shit and fuck, Marley, I don't want that for us," Santana admits, turning her head to place an answering kiss on Marley's temple. "I don't want that for _you_."

"I'll be fine, love," Marley says.

"What if she kicks you out, Marley?" Santana says. "I mean, obviously you can come stay with me, but then my parents would be asking questions, and I'm not ready at all for–"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, San."

"Am I?" Santana asks. "This is some real shit, Marley."

Marley snorts a bit at that, but Santana can't explain it otherwise. Santana sighs, pressing another kiss to Marley's hair.

"Let's just, okay, can we just, like, pause it with the parents, for now, please?" Santana says. "This is not me being scared, okay?"

"I know," Marley says.

"Well, it is a little bit, but like, if something happens and we're homeless... We're too young for that shit, Marls," Santana says. "I don't want to take it there, but we've got to be realistic."

Marley nods. "Pausing it on the parents," she affirms, and Santana lets out a relieved breath.

"Let's just wait it out until college, okay? First, I plan on getting the fuck out of this cowtown," Santana admits. "Far, _far_ away, but there's still a lot of high school left to conquer." She takes a deep breath, then, because, well, maybe it's to early to totally bring this up, yet, but she guesses she can hint at it, perhaps? "Maybe can _both_ get out, you know?" Her voice is small, and she doesn't exactly say the word_ together_, but it's implied, anyway, so.

Marley lifts her head from Santana's shoulder and looks at her with such _open_ eyes that it somehow breaks and mends Santana's heart at once. Santana smiles at her faintly, and Marley barely returns it before she's leaning in and kissing Santana with a sureness she hasn't ever felt from Marley before.

Before Santana knows it, that familiar passion rises up and then she's pressing up on her knees from where she's sitting so she can face Marley and undress her. Marley easily gets rid of Santana's uniform and Santana takes her time getting Marley out of her shirt and skirt.

She turns Marley around to unzip the back of her skirt and helps push it down Marley's legs, watches as the muscles in Marley's back flexes, transfixed. She kind of scoots in behind Marley, pushing their hips together and holding on to Marley's waist as she presses hot kisses on Marley's shoulder. Marley's head turns and then Santana's kissing her over her shoulder, enjoying the angle of the kiss and the feeling of herself pressed up against the back of Marley's naked body like this.

Marley makes to turn in Santana's arms to face her, but Santana just kind of keeps her in place. Marley's eyes open and she looks at Santana, confusion showing even through the hoodedness.

Santana bites her lip and keeps the intense stare as her hands reach around Marley's body to cup both Marley's breasts in her hands. Marley moans and arches, pressing her head back so her cheek is placed against Santana's, and Santana starts littering soft kisses on her jawline.

"Alright?" Santana asks.

Marley just nods, and Santana smiles and she starts kneading and then tweaking at Marley's nipples. Marley's hand comes up and tangles in Santana's hair, and Santana can feel how Marley just kind of falls back into her, surrendering.

They start another searing kiss and then Santana moves her left hand lower until she's right above Marley's pelvis, and then Santana pulls back again.

"Still alright?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Marley just chuckles slightly and nods before kissing Santana again, moaning into her mouth as Santana's fingers finally find her heat. Marley is already really wet and so warm and Santana just groans, then pulls away from Marley a bit.

"Marley," she breathes, absentminded, wanting something but doubting how to ask for it, this time. Instead of speaking, she just shuffles behind Marley a bit, putting her knees on either sides of Marley's right leg so her left thigh presses up into Marley a bit. She keeps on kissing Marley's shoulder as she moves, keeping her right hand palming Marley's breast and the other drawing slow circles around Marley's clit, hearing Marley's panting pick up.

She bites her lip as she looks down at the smooth skin of Marley's back, then removes both of her hands from their ministrations to place them on Marley's hips again. Marley's right arm comes back to hold on to her thigh and Santana presses on Marley's back slightly, making her bend forward just an inch, and then Marley kind of freezes, and Santana breathes out heavily.

"Marley," she says again, softly, and Marley's head turns to see Santana, eyes blazing. "Is this okay?"

Marley gulps a bit, and Santana can see a hint of unease in her eyes, and then Santana lets go of her immediately, making to move around to face Marley again.

"It's okay," she says softly, "we don't have to–"

The hand on Santana's thigh presses her back, though, keeping her in place.

"No," Marley exhales. "You can keep going." Santana wants to ask, but Marley is one step ahead. "I'm sure."

"Okay," Santana says, bending forward to place another series of soft kisses at the top of Marley's spine. "Okay."

Her left hand comes down past Marley's bum and nudges Marley's thighs to spread them a bit more. Then Santana's touching Marley again, the angle making her collide with Marley's wetness before moving up to find her clit again, and Marley relaxes slightly at the touch. Santana keeps drawing soft circles on Marley's hip with the other hand. Marley gasps when Santana increases the pressure.

"Good?" Santana asks, and Marley just nods quickly.

Santana's hand tangles with Marley's on her hip and then she's guiding it, along with Marley's upper body, to lean forward on the bed until Marley's resting her weight on her arm, settled on all fours. Santana leans over her and feels with the hand still on Marley's wetness how the move just opened Marley up for her more, and she bites slightly into the skin above Marley's shoulder blade.

"Santana," Marley breathes out, and then Santana presses two fingers into her. "_Santana!_"

She starts a slow, deep rhythm and after a few moments, she can feel Marley pressing back into her, and just, at this angle, the way Marley feels around her... She can't help groaning almost as loudly as Marley is right now, which, shit, Marley's being _loud_. She keeps her right hand tangled with the one Marley's leaning on, bending over over Marley and draping herself along the entire left side of Marley's back, to Santana, a brilliantly intimate position.

Marley's arching up into her so that her head is pressed right next to Santana's again, mouth slack and eyes pressed closed tight, and it's about the hottest and most beautiful thing Santana's ever seen.

Later, when Marley comes, hard, body straining and gasping for breath, Santana brings her down softly and surely, whispering _I love you_, over and over and fucking over again into her ear, meaning it more with every following syllable.

–

Getting ready for sectionals is a shitfest.

Just like last year, when they seemed so out of sync without Kurt, it's even worse this time around without Mercedes and Quinn in the mix.

And now, fucking Rachel – all butthurt because Brittany is obviously the best fucking president this school will ever have – had to go and get herself suspended, and just, fuck everything.

"I don't even want to sing, at this rate," Santana shrugs.

She pushes her lunch tray away from her, suddenly not even hungry anymore. She almost laughs when Marley's hand appears in her vision, subtly pressing the tray back to her – she's still on that, sometimes, and it just amuses Santana while simultaneously warming her heart. But her mood's too sour to laugh, looking at the mild expressions around her.

She's sitting with Quinn, Marley, Brittany and Finn, and Tina and Mike for lunch. They're all jolly, but Santana can't understand why when this time time tomorrow, one of them will be standing on a stage with a trophy while the others won't, and that just doesn't seem fair.

"It's going to be a friendly competition, Santana," Quinn shrugs.

"Uh, last time I checked the loser is completely out of the running," Santana says.

"I don't think so," Tina pipes up. "I don't think Mr Shue or Ms Corcoran would object to us joining either team, afterward."

"Yeah," Marley agrees. "At the end of the day, we're both still McKinley teams."

Marley looks at her with that soft look that calms Santana instantly, and she just smiles back, lost in Marley's eyes for a moment. Santana sighs and reaches to steal a fry out of Marley's plate, then shrugs as she chews and waves a hand, forfeiting the battle.

She hears Mike and Finn talk about something but everyone else is quiet, then glances up to find Brittany looking at her with a small smile, and realises Quinn and Tina are also looking at her, rather gobsmacked, and Santana just rolls her eyes. Brittany starts laughing, and so do the rest of them, and when Santana looks over, Marley's flushing heavily, and Santana hears Brittany mumble something about being_ whipped_, or some stupid shit like that.

Santana growls out a weak, "Fuck off," which just makes everyone laugh harder, and she just grunts, keeping her head down for the rest of lunch.

–

Santana thinks that, in the end, they're pretty evenly matched.

She doesn't know what she wants the outcome to be here. Obviously, she wants to win, but on the other hand, she doesn't want her friends to lose, and shit, it's just awful, this. She stands in the back row, Marley's sneaky fingers tangled with her own the only thing that stops her from bouncing around in anticipation and agitation while they wait for the results to be read.

She doesn't even hear the name, but realises the outcome when she's being engulfed in a hug by Marley and the entire team, really, shouts of joy filling her ears. It's self-torture, looking over and spotting the devastation on Mercedes' face and the upset on Quinn's, and shit, winning has never felt this dreary before.

It beats her, the reasoning behind the glee club choosing this, but somehow, she gets elected to be the one to reach out to Mercedes to _re_-recruit her for New Directions or some shit.

"No way," Mercedes tells her, the same time Quinn says, "Of course we will."

Mercedes and Quinn look at each other in surprise for a moment, and Santana sighs.

"Wheezy," she says, staring hard to get her point across, "Mr Shue will let the Troubletones have a solo at every next competition."

Mercedes' head perks up at that, and though she still declines the offer, Santana can see remnants of doubt on her face, and knows it won't be long.

Later that week, Mercedes and Quinn hesitantly step into the choir room, the others just let them fall into rehearsal easily, not even making a big deal about their return. Good, too, because, really this is just how the normal order of things is supposed to go.

Somehow, Santana feels like gravity suddenly started working properly for a change, and her world balances out again.

–

"So, what happens now?" Santana asks Quinn.

They're watching as the club decorates the Christmas tree, and God, Santana can't believe it's December already. Everything just went way too fast this year.

Quinn shrugs. "New York isn't on the other side of the world. Shelby told me I could visit whenever I wanted, so..."

"And you're okay with that?"

Quinn shrugs again. "I've been fine without her for a whole year... But, Shelby told me she'll send me pictures all the time and stuff."

"That's nice," Santana says. This is really out of her experience level, so she just reaches out and squeezes Quinn's elbow.

"How's that going, by the way?" Quinn asks, and Santana looks to see her nodding in Marley's direction.

Santana looks down, biting the inside of her cheek. She'll just probably never get used to talking about that, she reckons.

"Fine," Santana says, and Quinn snorts.

"I've known you a long time, San, and I've never seen you like this," Quinn says, raising an eyebrow in that perfectly intimidating way she does. "I think _fine_ is a bit of an understatement."

Santana laughs. "I guess," she mutters, still not really making eye contact.

"Oh my God," Quinn laughs. "A _shy_ Santana. Have I landed in the Twilight Zone?"

Santana just shoves her before pulling them both over to go sing with the club, pleased when it distracts Quinn completely.

–

So, winter break would be absolutely fantastic if she didn't have to worry about what she should get Marley for Christmas all the fucking time.

The rest of it has been going perfectly. The coldness keeps Santana in bed with Marley for most of the holiday, which she really isn't complaining about. She gets to hang out with Brittany, Quinn and Finn all the time, and is also spending an increasing amount of time with Tina, which goes better than she ever expected. When Tina shows Santana her extensive collection of angry girl music, introducing her to some artists even Santana hasn't heard of, they find an enjoyable middle ground, and Marley just looks at the two of them interacting with this pleased smile on her face, which, well. Santana doesn't need anything more than that, does she?

Thus, when Santana finds herself in this pickle, she decides it's probably best not to call her own best friend for advice, but Marley's. She nicked the number off Marley's phone without her knowing, and shit, things are serious when she realises that she's actually depending on _Asian Goth_ for help right now.

When Tina answers the phone, Santana can actually hear the shock in her voice when Santana greets her.

"Santana _Lopez_?" Tina clarifies, and Santana's lack of patience already feels tested.

"No, the fucking guitarist, Tina, Jesus," she says, despite wanting to keep her temper in check.

"Oh," Tina says. "Uh, hello."

"Yeah, got through that part already," Santana notes. She clears her throat, brashness leaving her suddenly. "I... Yeah. Uhm, I was wondering if you'd... Well. I kinda– I need your help."

Tina's quiet for a moment. "Okay?"

"It's about Marley," Santana says, as if that's not already obvious. Tina just hums, like that's expected, and well. "Uhm. Has she like, mentioned anything to you about... Uhm. Well, what she wants for Christmas or whatever?"

Tina's quiet for another moment, but then Santana hears quiet giggles, and it takes everything in her power not to try and slap Tina through the phone, or something.

Instead, she takes deep breathes, calming herself down, for Marley's sake, at least.

"Sorry," Tina says, and Santana hears her breathing heavily on the other end. "She hasn't said anything, no. But you know Marley, she won't want anything over the top, so don't do that."

"This isn't helping, Girl Chang."

"Er..." Tina starts, "we went shopping the other day and she saw a jacket she really wanted but didn't end up getting it?"

Santana mulls it over. It just seems so thoughtless. "Anything else?" she says, almost disapproving, realizing she needs to restore her image after her faltering minutes earlier.

Tina hums again, clearly in thought. "Let me think about it, and I'll text you if I come up with something, okay?"

"Fine," Santana sighs.

"Er," Tina starts, and Santana hears her letting out a deep breath. "Just, don't worry so much. Marley like... She... Really loves you a lot, so she'll like anything you do."

Santana bites her lip, oddly grateful to Tina for some reason, and then just says, "Yeah, thanks Mulan," before putting down the phone quickly.

She remembers the days when Tina would cower when Santana so much as _looked_ at her, and shit.

God, she loves Marley, but girl is seriously fucking up her rep lately.

–

She's still blanking two days before Christmas, and shit, she thinks.

She drives over to Marley's house in a panic, and barely greets Mrs Rose properly when she lets Santana in and points her up to Marley's room.

When Marley smiles, surprised at Santana's arrival, Santana just kind of goes and falls down next to Marley on the bed, putting her arm over her eyes, anxiety taking over.

"Okay, are we like, actually doing Christmas presents and shit this year?" Santana blurts. "If we are, can we just, not, please? I just think it's stupid, 'cause no fucking thing I could possibly buy could actually like, _show_ you how much I love you and shit, and it's just so pointless, and fuck, I'm so stuck, so. Christ, can we just skip it, please?"

Oh, she thinks. That's been her issue this whole time, then. Glad to be figuring that out, finally, she guesses.

Marley laughs for long moments. Santana feels Marley climb on top of her before pulling Santana's arm off her face. When Santana locks eyes with her, Marley smiles and rolls her eyes at Santana's stupidity, and Santana lightly slaps her thigh.

"Fine by me, San," Marley says, leaning down and placing kisses on Santana's neck. "There are many other ways for us to celebrate Christmas," she says, and Santana's breath hitches.

"Yeah?" she says, voice already shaky.

"Hmm," Marley hums, moving down and pushing Santana's jumper up to place soft kisses on her stomach.

Marley's breath is warm on her skin, and Santana's hand tangle in her hair as Marley starts unbuttoning Santana's pants.

And so, it looks like Santana'll be the first one to get a present this year, then, not that she's complaining in any way, though.

–

Santana realises she's getting more and more comfortable with _being_ with Marley in front of other people when, one cold afternoon, she walks into the living room to find Quinn, Brittany and Marley sprawled out on the couch together. Take out food strewn is between them and they're chatting about innocuous things, and Santana bites her lip and decides, whatever.

She leaves the space she'd been occupying next to Quinn empty when she opts to crawl under the cover next to Marley instead. She looks over at Quinn and Brittany, who pays her no mind, just scoots over to make more space for her instead. She throws her arm over Marley's stomach and rests her head on Marley's shoulder, and Marley just rolls with it, pulling Santana closer and settling in and watching how Quinn just keeps on painting Brittany's toenails, and it just feels like another winter day.

The problem is that Santana gets _too _comfortable, fast, suddenly used to PDA with Marley in front of Quinn and Brittany. Not like, kissing or anything, because that's a little too much for Santana still, but she's not actively avoiding being close to Marley anymore, so that's progressing well.

So much so that she fucks up royally, about two weeks before school starts, when her guard is still down, in holiday mode.

They're at Quinn's house, because she's always had the best television, watching a movie Finn really wanted to see, some action blockbuster that, according to him, "Has to be seen on a big screen, seriously, the effects are so cool."

And so halfway through, Marley comes back from a quick trip to the kitchen with more popcorn for everyone else, handing out small bowls to them all, standing in front of the couch Brittany and Finn are sitting on. Brittany jokes for Marley to get out of the way, 'cause she can't see the action on screen, and Quinn, to piss her off, pretends not to be able to get her popcorn fast enough, making Marley block _all _their views for a long moment, laughing as she tries to escape Brittany jokingly kicking at her shin.

Santana laughs at their antics, waiting for Quinn to finally grab her goddamn popcorn before reaching up and grabbing Marley around the waist, pulling her down onto Santana's lap. Marley squeals as she lands on Santana's thighs, arms thrown around Santana's neck and laughing as she presses a kiss to Santana's hair. Quinn, after seeing the hilarious initial shock on Marley's face at the move, laughs harder, then, and Santana's seconds away from joining her, if not for Marley tensing up heavily in her arms.

Her gaze quickly darts up to Marley, who's looking at something behind Santana, and Santana turns to look behind them on the couch, where Finn's looking at them strangely, brows furrowed, hand paused halfway to his mouth, holding on to a piece of popcorn.

Sometimes, Finn's daft, but he's not a fucking moron.

The smile is wiped from Santana's face and she lets go of Marley instantly, then feels Marley do the same. She clears her throat awkwardly as Marley shuffles off her to sit between her and Quinn on the floor, putting as much space between them as possible.

It's not as if Santana hasn't considered it, because Finn has been quite present in her life for a long time, now, but he's still not like, Brittany or Quinn, and so, she simply hasn't thought to bring him up to speed on it all.

She feels Finn's stare on her all night, and when they part, later, he hugs her longer and more tightly than usual, for reasons unknown, and then just waves her off with that silly grin of his.

It makes her feel awful, for some reason.

–

"If he asks, you can tell him," Marley tells her that night, head pressed into Santana's neck, sleepy and sated.

It's somewhat out of the blue in the current moment, but Santana knows what she's talking about anyway. "I don't really want to be talking about Finn when we're naked."

Marley snorts. She brings Santana's fingers up and places soft kisses on her fingertips. "Still," she says, then pulls on Santana's hand until Santana rolls on top of her, kissing her deeply.

Here they go again, Santana thinks, smiling into the kiss, not complaining at all.

"Okay," Santana says simply, then kisses her way down Marley's body.

–

Finn's like, _waiting_ for her the next time she goes over to Brittany's house. Santana swears he was camping out there just in case Santana came over, driven by pure curiosity.

When they sit in her room, Brittany looks at Santana questioningly and Santana gets what she means immediately. She nods slightly, and Brittany leaves to go get them some drinks or some easy excuse like that, perky as ever.

Finn looks awkward as he tries to like, _glare_ at Santana or some shit, and Santana does everything she can not to laugh. It's quiet for a moment and just when Santana's about to insult Finn to get him to speak the fuck up, he does so anyway.

"You're one of my best friends, Santana," Finn says suddenly, and Santana starts, because okay, that's news. "If something's er... _going on_ with you and Marley, you can totally tell me. If you want to, obviously."

Santana smiles, reminded of why she likes Finn a lot, at times. She nods, once, and Finn's whole face lights up.

"Cool," Finn says, stupid half-smile thing intact again. "I though my brother was mad, but you know Kurt. He knows everything."

"Jesus," Santana says, panicking again slightly. "Does _everyone_ know?"

Finn shakes his head, smile dropping slightly. "No, not about Marley, no," he says immediately, shuffling closer to Santana somewhat. He puts his hand on her bicep, awkwardly, then rubs up and down a bit, and Santana almost laughs in his face, cause God, he really is just such a _lump_. A big, thoughtful, but completely fucking awkward lump. "He thought the reason you were... uh, _you_, if you know what I mean_–_"

"A bitch?" Santana offers.

"Uh," Finn pulls his hand away and scratches at his head. "_Angry_, is because you were, uh, in the closet, or something like that."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Fucking Lady Lips," she says, then adds, "Sorry," to the slight frown that forms on Finn's face at her words.

Finn just shrugs, though, looking at Santana all reverently and shit, and Santana just pushes his shoulder slightly.

It's quiet for a moment, then Brittany's voice comes through the door. "Are you guys done? This tray is heavy and I'm tired of pretending that I'm not out here listening."

Santana bursts out laughing, and Brittany comes in, all bright eyed and happy, and then things are back to their old selves, just like that.

–

"You do realize that now almost half the glee club knows about us, right?" Marley whispers to her in the choir room on their first day back at McKinley.

Santana looks around at everyone chatting and catching up animatedly around them and shit, she thinks, Marley's right. She sighs, knowing where this is heading.

"We're going there again?" Santana asks hesitantly.

Marley shrugs, looking somewhat sad, and it makes Santana's heart clench. "I just think it would be nice to be open about us _somewhere_. Make it feel a bit more _real_, sometimes."

That one hurts Santana, because, well. "Don't you think _we_ feel real?" she asks in a small voice.

"You know what I mean, San. I know how you feel and you know how I do, obviously. But, like... Imagine having _one_ place where we don't have to hide in the shadows and stuff, at least."

Santana sighs, looking at where Finn's drumming a beat that Kurt and Blaine dance to together, quickly joined by Tina and Mike, and it bothers no one, the differences between those two couples. It would be nice, she agrees, but there's still a part of her that's so fucking apprehensive of it all, for different reasons than before – they're so _good_, right now, and she's still scared that'll slip through her fingers, somehow.

"I know you're scared, Santana," Marley says. "But just think about it, okay?"

Santana nods, and then thinks, _be fucking strong, Lopez, do it for Marley, for fuck sake_.

"How would we even break the news without Wheezy like, passing out?" Santana asks, and Marley breaks into a grin, glad Santana's _open_ to the idea of it, at least.

"How does anyone say anything in this club, Santana?" Marley says, somewhat patronizing, and Santana just rolls her eyes, because, of course.

–

She doesn't get how the club doesn't just fucking guess they're dating, though, since the way Santana must be staring at Marley in these fucking little swimming costumes is probably giving her away to anyone within ten metres of her.

Getting to do this synchronized swimming gig is probably the first time she's ever been thankful for Trouty coming to McKinley in her life. Well, second to the time he switched his attention over from Marley to Mercedes, but whatever.

She's oddly flattered that Shuester would choose her to sing lead on his proposal song with Berry, since she's pretty fucking sure he hates her just as much as she hates him, but. Typical of him to recognize her voice just when he needs her pipes, so. Whatever, she gets to kick ass at it, at least.

In the moment Shuester goes down on one knee and somehow tricks Pillsbury into saying yes, Santana just kind of looks over to Marley, who looks back at her with a smile. It's a strange moment, but like, she suddenly thinks about how they've been going good for like, six months, which is probably like, a big fucking deal, and well. She kind of has to tear her eyes away from Marley and force herself to focus on Pillsbury slipping her ring on her finger again.

And _that_ shit isn't even _close_ to being on Santana's radar, but like. _Still_.

Still.

–

It just, like, _happens_ one day, Santana guesses.

She's sitting in glee, looking at everyone just chilling around her and throwing ideas around for regionals, and like, shit. Marley's next to her, totally in her element, wearing a slight frown with how hard she's thinking of the perfect song for this club to just make it, so passionate that it makes Santana ache. That feeling of being at home here takes her over so suddenly that she starts wondering why she's torturing herself, still.

Like, she wants to be putting her arm around Marley's chair right now, hooking her leg around Marley's own under their chairs, maybe even press the slightest kiss to her fucking cheek. But most of all, right now, she just wants to fucking _sing_ a song with her goddamn girlfriend.

The thought makes her gut jump about five centimetres higher inside her, but she just keeps reminding herself that she's a different person now, and well. Talking about it the whole time is tiring her out, so she might as well start proving that shit for a change.

She scoots closer to Marley, pulling her attention away from the discussion.

"Do you want to sing a song with me?" Santana whispers.

Marley knits her brows together. "At regionals?" she asks, clearly still caught in the club's debate.

Santana shakes her head. "No," she says. "Like, now. Here. Just for us."

Marley's eyes widen. "Now?" she asks. "_Now_, now?"

Santana nods, biting her lip. Marley's ears turn red.

"Uh, yeah, okay, but, uh," Marley says, "why?"

"Dunno," Santana says simply. "Just feel like it. Is that okay?"

Marley nods. "We've never sung together before."

"One of the many things I'm trying to fix here, Marls," Santana says.

Marley just keeps on nodding, like she's still trying to catch up with things, and Santana doesn't blame her. To her, it feels like they're suddenly fast forwarding into something completely new, but like, if not now – _when_, really?

"What shall we sing?" Marley asks, tone somewhat excited, now that she's finally getting on board with the idea.

The look Santana gives her is almost exasperated. "What do you think?"

Marley chuckles slightly. "We're doing this?"

"We're doing this," Santana confirms.

She keeps her eyes locked with Marley all the way, grinning as she raises her hand. Only when Shuester asks, "Santana?" does she look away from Marley.

"I want to sing something," Santana says. "Uhm... Now."

"For regionals?" Shuester asks, confused.

"Sure," Santana lies.

Figures, how fucking Berry can just jump up at any time and sing about whatever she wants, but Shuester has to second guess Santana when she does the same. Whatever, Santana thinks, focusing on the task at hand. This isn't about him.

She stands up, surprised to find her legs kind of shaky, and then walks over to get two sitting stools to place in the centre of the room. She whispers her song to the band and then takes a deep breath before turning around to face the club.

She sees Quinn and Brittany looking at her strangely, somehow knowing Santana's up to something. Then she just sees the rest of this group, looking at her calmly and expecting, and reminds herself of all the great moments she's had here in the past, what this club has meant to her at times, and that settles the nerves inside her, somehow.

She kind of pats the chair next to her own, smiling as Marley bites her lip and gets up to join Santana. They get on the chairs, and Santana takes a deep breath before nodding at the band.

The opening notes fill Santana's ear, and Marley smiling softly at her grounds her immediately, and she finds her voice is strong when it finally leaves her.

They launch into it without pause, voices soft and somehow blending perfectly together without ever practicing it in the past. But like, if ever there was a song that was meant for _them_, it was this, and so, it's easy.

She doesn't even blink, not when finally singing to Marley that she she fills her lungs with sweetness or that she wants to take Marley to fields painted with gold or when uttering any of the sentimentality laden in those verses, in front of the entire club, and Marley doesn't blink either. Santana keeps on looking at nothing but Marley when she says, _My whole world is you_, and the slight smile Marley wears throughout it all just makes everything so fucking worth it that Santana doesn't regret a single clichéd second of it all.

They croon out a final series of, _Can I be close to you's_, and after the music dies down, Santana is only pulled away from the moment when slow clapping cuts through the silence.

Santana finally looks away from Marley's flushing face to the entire club, most of whom either look at them happy or proud – Brittany, Quinn, Tina, Finn and the Wonder Twins – or with mouths hanging open in surprise – mostly Artie and Mercedes. Sam looks mildly disgruntled, Puck frowns before settling into a smirk, and Mike and Rachel just look oddly impressed by it all.

In a way, Santana feels like a heavy fucking weight has just been lifted off her, and in another, she feels somehow fucking _liberated_ by the whole thing.

It goes completely over Shuester's head, what just happened – he's probably thought Santana's been out since the whole MucKraker extravaganza last year, so – and he just says, "Thanks, Marley and Santana, but, uhm, I don't think that'll really work for our set."

"Whatever," Santana says, not bothered at all, eyes locking with Marley's again.

She follows Marley back to her seats, ignoring everyone as she does so, smiling slightly to herself. She feels happy that the move brought her so much relief instead of more panic, and well.

When she sits down, she stays still for a second before reaching out to hold Marley's hand, thinking, fuck everything, because she's so goddamn happy right now.

–

That night, she's even fucking happier, as Marley goes down on her so long that she loses feeling in her legs for like an hour after they're done.

–

Nothing big changes in glee club. Only now, Santana doesn't hesitate to lean into Marley when Marley puts an arm around her chair, or when she wants to put her hand on Marley's thigh, or even when they dance together and Santana sings along to the mushiest words alive and proceeds to direct them all at Marley.

She figures she owes the club one after they're being so cool about it all, and so when Dalton boy, who Santana doesn't even care so much about, really, starts sporting an eye patch, she takes it upon herself to go fix that shit up.

It earns her her own slushy facial, but fuck if it wasn't worth it, knowing that the recorder under her chest is getting every second of this on record.

When she gets home after that altercation, her mother looks at her with raised eyebrows.

"Do I even want to ask, Santana?" her mother asks, giving her entire – on point, she knows – Michael look a once over.

"You can," Santana shrugs, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. "I just doubt you'd understand the answer."

Her mother rolls her eyes – signature Lopez move – and gestures to the stairs.

"Go take a shower," her mother says. "You have a visitor waiting."

"Hmm?" Santana says, banana already propped in her mouth. "Ghu?"

Her mother rolls her eyes _again_. God, Santana wonders if it's that irritating when she does it, as well.

"Not rocket science, mija, she's over here _all_ the time, who else do you expect?"

Santana smiles immediately, not being able to get up fast enough, but then stops for a moment. "Is that a problem?"

She knows her mum was using her jokester tone there, but her words leave some explanation to be desired.

"There's no smaller problem on earth, sweetie," her mum says, ushering her out by her shoulder. "You know I like that girl. Now go. Red is not your colour."

"Please," Santana scoffs, finally ascending the stairs. "It's my _best_ colour."

If her mother's confused look was severe, it still doesn't come close to the one Marley's wearing now.

"Is this look doing anything for you?" Santana asks. "If so, come savour the last of it in a shower with me – if not, come help me get rid of it in a shower with me."

Marley snorts and comes up to her, swiping a bit off Santana's forehead. She leans in for a small kiss, kind of licking her lips at the taste, and then, to Santana, the freeze of the slushy is all but forgotten.

"Let me rather stay out here," Marley says. "You're mother has been waiting on me all night, so she might..."

Santana just nods, thinking how much she needs some cold water on her skin immediately.

"Be right back," Santana says. "Oh! Wait."

She reaches under her bra and retrieves the tape recorder, uttering a slight, "Aha!" as she looks at it proudly and puts it on her desk.

"Holy shit," Marley says, and it's so strange to hear her girlfriend cursing that Santana just laughs all the way to her en suite.

–

The last time Quinn looked so nervous about telling Brittany and Santana something was when she had to babysit her daughter, and the time before that was right after they found out she was pregnant, so.

Santana's freaking out a bit over here, sitting on the bench in the Cheerio locker room and looking up at Quinn like she's about to give them a lecture.

"I got into Yale," Quinn says then, biting her lip and wringing her hands together.

It's quiet for a moment, until the words actually sink in, and then Santana's jumping up and wrapping her arms around Quinn, feeling Brittany's arms wrap around both of them soon after.

"Quinn," she breathes, "that's so goddamn amazing, fucking hell."

Quinn dissolves into giggles, then, an odd sight, but seemingly finally fucking wholly _happy_ for the first time in her high school career, and something in Santana's chest starts expanding and doesn't stop.

When they finally calm down, she looks over and smiles at Brittany, who smiles back, but Santana notices it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She presses it to the back of her mind, for later, though, and focuses on Quinn right now.

Quinn tells them how she managed to convince the panel and Santana just kind of sits there, in awe of their friend. Like, shit, Ivy League was always something she expected from Quinn, of course, but the actual reality is just like, fuck, that's incredible.

Then her mind is thrown into that whirring sensation again when Quinn repeats her question from the end of last year, and says, "What about you guys?"

Santana's throat goes dry, and it's like in that single moment she's suddenly made completely aware of the fact there's barely five months of her high school career left, and she has fuck all idea what comes after that.

She looks to Brittany for guidance, like she usually does, but Brittany's biting her lip and not making eye contact with them, simply shrugging.

"Same," Santana says, nodding to Brittany's reaction, trying to ignore the sudden panic rising.

It's not like she hasn't _thought_ of it, obviously, of course she has. It's just that a solid plan hasn't been formed in reaction to any of her thoughts, so.

The teenage girl in her just wants to be wherever Marley's going to be, but the other part has so many fucking high hopes and dreams for herself that overwhelms her so much that she has avoided it quite successfully so far.

But, she sighs, this is the probably the time that shit needs to be done. She kind of wants to slap the thirteen year old kid in herself, who always dreamed so big but never worked to put any of those dreams into something concrete. She always knew the end of high school was approaching and that she wanted to be ready to take on the world and cause a fucking storm, but.

She just thought she'd be more ready for it, when it came.

–

It stays on her mind all goddamn week, and reaches a breaking point.

When she sleeps over at Marley's house Friday night, she's barely come down from her orgasm when she blurts out, "What do you plan on doing after school?"

Marley, busy kissing up Santana's body after her tongue did wondrous things between Santana's legs, kind of freezes with her mouth on Santana's stomach. Santana just keeps on stroking Marley's head, though, and Marley relaxes enough to keep on placing soft kisses from Santana's chest to her neck.

She captures Santana's lips in a soft kiss. Santana finally feels like she has enough breath to deepen the kiss and does so, trying to distract from her own question, but Marley pulls back and looks at Santana seriously.

"I don't know," Marley whispers. She props herself up on her elbow and runs her fingers over Santana's own, resting on her stomach.

"Okay," Santana says, shrugging as well. She leans up to kiss Marley again, wanting to bring the mood back, but Marley just lets go of her hand and pushes down her back down with a hand on her chest.

"Do you want to study?" Marley asks, and Santana thinks it over.

She's always liked the cloak of security that being in school has afforded her, and doesn't want to give it up so soon.

"I guess," Santana says. "You?" Santana tries to keep the nerves out of her voice, knowing that they're actually, like, talking about adult shit, and it's weird for her.

Marley nods in answer to her question, then counters with, "Here? Or out of state?"

Santana smiles at that one, because, that part of things is quite easy.

"Of course," Marley chuckles a bit. She bites her lip. "New York, right?"

Santana nods, because that's probably the most concrete thing right now, but beyond that... She has shit all ideas.

Santana ducks her head, shy, because there's only one question left and she knows she _can_ ask it, but it just takes a lot to actually do it.

"And, uhm," Santana starts, "would you... Do you like New York, also?"

Marley just nods, shy smile spread on her face.

"So," Santana continues, "like, will we..." Santana takes another breath. "New York, then?"

"Yeah," Marley breathes, nodding as she does so. "New York it is."

"Cool," Santana exhales, although that might be the biggest understatement of the century.

Marley smiles into their next kiss and Santana mirrors it, rolling over to manifest her joy in actions bent on making Marley come undone.

–

Santana's sure the smile stays on her face for ages, all through Shuester's idiotic attempts at Spanish, and their new cheer coach's introduction and any stupid high school shit that could happen in between.

The only thing that breaks her mood is, while they're on the bus on the way to cheerleading regionals, the frown on Brittany's face. It doesn't disappear no matter what quips Santana comes up with to describe the landmarks on their way to Dallas.

She realizes with a start that she's been so busy worrying about her future and spending time with Marley that she hasn't been around Brittany for a while, and feels bad instantly. She's doing to Brittany what Brittany did to her in sophomore year, and she never wanted to be _that_ girl when in a relationship.

"Hey," Santana starts, lowering her voice. "You alright, B? I'm sorry I've been MIA. You want to talk about something?"

Brittany shakes her head, staring out of the window forlornly. It scares Santana a bit, because if Brittany, queen of 'talking about your feelings' island, doesn't actually want to _talk_ about it, it must be something big.

She decides to do the same for Brittany that Brittany did for her when she was going through her gay panic, and just wordlessly links their arms together, leaning her head on Brittany's shoulder. Brittany sighs and leans her head on Santana's, clutching back at her, and Santana smiles, satisfied.

But, even after they take regionals and ride back, everyone on a high, Brittany's mood doesn't change. In fact, she looks more distraught than ever, and Santana's worry spikes.

She vows to pay more attention to Brittany for the next week, because a non-perky Brittany is a serious sin against nature, and she's going to make it right no matter what.

–

She misses glee on Monday, thanks to Sue and Roz staging some celebratory cheerleading session in the auditorium, where the whole team needs to pose for a myriad of pictures with their insane trophy.

Well, everyone bar Brittany, who has disappeared since Santana drove her to school this morning. She hasn't returned Santana's texts, and Santana wants to worry, but. She tells herself Brittany's at glee, probably, and she'll just find her best friend at lunch.

When the bell signals lunch, though, she first wants to find her girlfriend. She hasn't seen Marley since before regionals and didn't catch her before school, and well. Santana bites her lip. She's so pathetic, really, missing Marley after a simple weekend, but she can't help it. Valentine's Day is coming up this week as well, and just...

Santana thinks she should stop fighting the fact that she's just a total fucking sap.

She goes to Marley's locker and is happy to see Marley unloading what seems to be all her books. Santana thinks it's weird that Marley's emptying her locker so early in the day, but whatever, it's none of Santana's business.

Santana all but fucking skips over – God, she's ridiculous – and faintly pinches Marley's waist for her attention. She wants to just pick the girl up and kiss her senseless, but it is school, so she reels that shit in.

"Hey," Santana says softly, that tone she only uses around Marley. "Missed you."

Marley jumps away at Santana's touch, which makes Santana frown a bit, because the hallways are far too busy for them to be noticed, but okay.

Santana smiles, putting her fingers on Marley's wrist where no one will see it. "It's okay," she says, "nobody's looking."

Marley shrugs Santana off her, movements near-violent, and that finally makes Santana shake out of her loved up stupor.

"Marley, what–"

"Leave me alone," Marley says, closing her locker and zipping her bag shut, turning her back on Santana.

Everything in Santana goes cold and she chases immediately. "Wait, Marley, shit," she starts the sentence out loud, but then just kind of mutters to herself at the end, aware that she's basically pushing through what feels like the whole student body to get to Marley, and fuck.

It's only now that she notices people looking at her weirdly, instead of with fear, and she'd worry about that fact if it weren't for her girlfriend currently disappearing around the corner up front.

She's so goddamn confused when she gets there and sees Marley heading to the kitchen, obviously to find her mother, and just– What the fuck?

As she continues down the hallway, Santana goes through the things in her mind she might have did wrong since Friday, and well, unless Marley's angry that Santana was away the entire time, there's really nothing she can think of. And Marley isn't a petty and needy girlfriend like that, so Santana doubts it.

She sighs as she comes to a halt outside the kitchen doors, knowing that it's not her place to go in there, and fuck. She stands out there like a statue, waiting for Marley to come out, so confused that time slips past her, and when the bell goes again, and Marley still hasn't surfaced. Sighing, Santana bites the bullet and just heads in, regardless of the consequences right now.

"Whoa, you're not supposed to be in here," one of the kitchen hands tell her, but she could not care less right now.

"Where's Mrs Rose?" she asks the guy.

"Oh," he says, scratching his head. "Went home. Something was wrong with her kid."

Santana's chest sinks into itself.

She's out there faster than Flash, in her car and speeding to Marley's house without thought of what she's doing.

She parks down the street, for some reason scared of Mrs Rose seeing her, she doesn't know why, but her spider sense must be fucking tingling or some shit. Luckily, she's adept at sneaking into Marley room by now, so she climbs over the Rose fence and treads into the house through the backdoor that leads through the kitchen.

The television's on, and Santana peeks her head in to see only Mrs Rose perched in front of it.

She silently goes upstairs, sees Marley's door slightly open, and thanks the stars for her luck so far. She goes in just as quietly, and what she sees breaks her fucking heart.

Marley's lying on her bed, facing away from Santana, and Santana can see by the way her shoulders are shaking that she's crying up a storm, and Santana wants to cry just from witnessing that shit. She closes the door behind her, sound echoing through the room, and Marley doesn't move a muscle.

"I told you I don't want to talk, mom," comes Marley's teary voice, and _shit_, Santana _hates_ seeing and hearing her like that.

Santana walks forward and sits down on the bed, reaching out and placing her hand on Marley's upper arm. "Marley," she whispers.

Marley _shoots_ up at her voice, standing at the opposite side of the bed, eyes red and puffy. She quickly wipes her eyes, then says, "Get out," in a low voice.

"Marley, what's going on?"

Marley shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "Please, go away," she says, voice broken now.

Santana walks around the bed to get closer to her, because she just has no fucking clue what's happening right now, but it scares her more than angers her.

"Marley," she says again, holding her hands out, "please tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if–"

Marley backs away from her, shaking her head. "Don't do that, Santana," she says, holding up a hand to warn Santana away. "You don't get to..."

Marley just trails off, new tears spilling out, and Santana says fuck it, and goes forward to hug Marley.

That seems to flip something in Marley, and she just pushes Santana off her, broken demeanour replaced with an attacking one. Santana just looks at her, eyes wide, because she thought the days of Marley going at her like this was long gone.

"Why?" Marley cries. "Why would you do that to me? Did it scare you, talking about our future like that? You could have just backed out, instead of–"

Marley breaks down crying again, and Santana feels helpless in a way she never has before.

"Sweetheart, what are you–"

"_Don't_," Marley says, voice rough and hard, and Santana hasn't heard that tone since after Marley broke up with Sam last year.

"I don't know what you're on about, Marley, honestly," Santana says. "Just talk to me, for fuck sake, because–"

"We're done," Marley interrupts her, and Santana can't help it then, because confused or not, that's clear as day, and tears spring to her eyes immediately. Before she can question it, Marley says, "I could handle everything from last year, being scared and angry and all your shit, but you..." Marley gulps, and kind of grits the next part out, "_Cheating_ on me? I can't–"

"_What?_" Santana shakes her head, almost fucking _relieved_, because, shit. "I didn't cheat on you, Marley, who even–"

"Don't lie to me," Marley spits.

"I'm not," Santana says, darting forward immediately, fighting Marley a bit but eventually placing her hands on Marley's cheeks, looking at her imploringly. "Marley, I swear to god, please listen to me."

For all her bravado, Marley seems to break even more at this, and Santana realizes that all that fire just came from feeling so hurt, and shit, this is all just so unnecessary, because of all the things...

Santana could _never_.

Santana can't help it when she starts crying, too, because, shit. _We're done_ is still echoing in her head like nobody's business, and just the _thought_ of losing this, right now, is like... Fuck.

"Look at me, Marley," Santana whispers. "_Look_ at me. I don't know why you... I love _you_, goddamnit, okay?"

Marley clenches her eyes shut, but she's stopped fighting to get Santana off her, and Santana places her forehead against Marley's, staring at her right in the eyes.

"I would never cheat on you," Santana says. "_Never_. Why would I? You're the only..."

Marley sniffles, still shaking her head, and Santana wants to die right now, actually.

"Please," Santana says, kind of sobbing now, and fuck it all. "_Please_. Please, please."

She doesn't know what she's asking for exactly, just wants Marley to _stop_ this, and for them to go back to what they were, because this is fixable, Santana knows, but the feeling of it is _breaking_ her inside, really.

Marley shrugs Santana off her again and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, head in her hands, elbows perched on her thighs.

"I'm sorry," Marley says after a while, and Santana takes her queue immediately, kneeling down in front of Marley and squeezing her way between Marley's legs to get _closer_. She can't fucking afford Marley pulling away from her right now.

"Come here," Santana murmurs, taking Marley's hands away from her face, tangling their fingers together and keeping her face close to Marley's own. "Who told you that, Marley? I promise you, I didn't do _anything_."

Marley's sniffles again, biting her lip and looking down. She speaks so softly that, despite their closeness, Santana only knows what she's saying by watching her lips move. "Finn," Marley murmurs, then speaks up a bit in a whisper. "He said you and..." Marley closes her eyes again, like the thought alone hurts her. "You... _slept_ with Brittany when you guys were away, and–"

"No," Santana shakes her head, "no, Marley, no, no, no, that never happened, I swear to you."

Marley nods, but still seems so fucking sad, and Santana has no idea how to make it better.

"Marley," she says softly, letting go of Marley's hands and taking hold of Marley's hips. "I–"

Marley cuts her off. "I can't compete with Brittany, Santana," she says, finally looking at Santana, all teary-eyed. "I'm not... When we get to New York, there will be girls that... I'm not like them, and when you see–"

"Stop it," Santana says immediately, because she won't let a stupid misunderstanding like this break them, or let Marley start doubting herself at that, either. "I fucking love you, Marley. Do you understand that? I don't want _anyone_ else. _No one_."

Marley lets out a few more tears, overflowing with insecurity now, and Santana murmurs, "C'mere," before pulling Marley flush against her.

"I'm scared, too, sometimes, that some guy's gonna swoop in and..." Santana admits. Marley starts objecting immediately, and Santana smiles into her neck. "See? You have to believe me."

Marley's arms finally come up and wraps around Santana in turn, and Santana lets out a relieved breath.

"Just because I'm not farm-fish with his promise rings, doesn't mean I'm not like, one-hundred percent _here_, okay?" Santana whispers. "One hundred percent with you, and _only_ you."

Marley nods into her neck, _finally_, and Santana sighs, holding her close for long minutes.

When Marley eventually stops her small sniffles and the tears on Santana's own cheeks have dried, she pulls back and looks at Marley with a smile. She pushes some hair behind Marley's ear and her smile widens when Marley's thumb comes up and strokes Santana's cheek.

"I love you," Marley says softly. "I'm sorry."

Santana just shakes her head and says, "I love _you_," before leaning in and kissing Marley softly, keeping her close, pretending what just happened didn't scare the motherfucking living daylights out of her.

–

"Lie down, Marley," Santana says, waiting for Marley to place her head on the pillow, then scoots in behind her.

"No," Marley mumbles, then turns around so she can face Santana, burying her face in Santana's neck, tight hold around her waist.

It's crazy how vulnerable Marley must feel right now, not even being able to not face Santana. She hushes Marley as she holds her close, continually placing kisses against her hair, and then softly starts humming a random tune until Marley relaxes against her.

"Tell me what happened with Finn," Santana says.

Marley kisses Santana's jaw softly. "He came to glee all riled up. It was already at the end of the class and he missed the whole thing. He was looking for you and everyone told him to relax, but he didn't."

Marley reaches and tangles their hands together and it makes Santana smile. It's a habit Marley's grown used to doing late at night during pillow talk, and Santana's glad she's calmed down enough to do it now.

"He kicked a chair and stormed out," Marley continues, "and I ran after him and told him to calm down and tell me what happened. He was so angry that I didn't want to tell him where you were." Marley takes a deep breath. "He said I was stupid for not seeing what was going on behind our backs and that... well, you and Brittany... and then I just kind of stood there while he punched a locker and stormed away." Marley shakes her head. "Mercedes and everyone was behind me and being all consoling and I just... I don't know, I believed him in that moment, I shouldn't have, but... You and Brittany have history, and I..." Marley trails of and sighs.

Santana presses another kiss to Marley's temple. "I think that if Tina or something told me the same about you and Sam, I guess I would... Yeah, it's okay."

Marley chuckles a bit. "Plus points for trust."

It lightens the mood and Santana can't help but chuckle with her. "I guess we need to work on that."

She doesn't know what makes the idea appear when it does. Probably lying there for a few more seconds and wondering if Marley's mom won't come looking for her sometime, and how she should talk to Brittany as soon as she can, but suddenly–

"Marley," she speaks up immediately, and Marley still with the tone of her voice, "when Finn was going off in the hallways about Brittany and me and you, were there people around?"

Marley freezes against her in an instant, a kind of tenseness Santana's never felt from her before, and she gets her answer at once.

Santana squeezes her tighter.

"Shit."

–

As soon as she's sure Marley's okay – and that she's okay, really – Santana races to Brittany's house. School's out by now, but Santana has a feeling Brittany wasn't there, anyway.

Brittany's hunched over her desk, facing away from Santana and writing something.

"Please, dear God, explain the shitstorm I walked in at school today, Britt, 'cause nothing's making sense."

Brittany starts a bit at the sound of her voice. Santana goes and sits on the bed, running a hand through her hair, finally freed from its pony.

"Crazy rumours are flying around and I need you to tell me that wasn't on you." In a softer voice, Santana adds, "But I don't think it is, obviously, I'm just so confused."

Brittany is quiet for long moments and then turns around to face Santana, and Santana's alarmed to see the tear tracks running down her cheeks.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Brittany says, voice shaky. "Sorry."

"Britt, what the fuck?"

Santana darts up and goes over to hug Brittany, but Brittany just shakes her head and stands up, dodging Santana.

"Finn's going on about us sleeping together and unless I was motherfucking roofied, I'm pretty sure that never happened."

Brittany shakes her head violently, frowning. "No, no, that's not... What?"

Santana shrugs, still fucking worried about the state that Brittany's in, but she gives it time. "Beats me, B," is all she says. "He's just like, kicking chairs and stuff because he thinks you cheated on him and shit, so. He's not all clued up up here." Santana knocks on her own temple. "Inane stuff, really."

Brittany clenches her eyes shut and wraps her arms around herself, and Santana stops breathing for a moment.

"Britt," she starts, frowning and slowly walking closer to her best friend. "You didn't... Did you?"

Brittany starts crying heavily, and oh my fucking God, Santana thinks. She walks forward and scoops Brittany up in her arms, who just starts crying even harder into Santana's neck, and fuck, Santana thinks.

Fuckity fuck.

–

Apparently, Brittany's failing some subjects.

Like, all of them, right now.

Santana uses the phrase 'right now', because after she's finished with Brittany, Brittany's going to be acing McKinley like nobody's business. That's not the pressing issue here, though.

Recently, Brittany had a similar little talk with Finn as Santana's had with Marley, and Finn was all for the two of them going big places together. But Brittany kept the fact that she's struggling with school out of the picture, in fear of holding Finn back because of it, and well. Santana rolls her eyes, because it's _Finn_, but she kept that part to herself while Brittany was pouring her heart out.

(True, Brittany gives Finn more direction now than he would ever have gotten from that little midget stringing him along, Santana thinks. But that just reconfirms that he _needs_ Brittany, like, seriously.)

In some self-sacrificing act, Brittany hooked up with fucking bottom-of-the-pyramid Christina – Santana's always detested that bitch – in an attempt to like, push Finn away from her and _set him free_, or some ridiculous shit like that.

Until recently, Santana thought her best friend to be the smartest motherfucker on this planet, but.

She's just been proved wrong in a big way.

–

Santana is _exhausted_ when she finally gets into bed that night. She sends Marley a quick text that reminds her Santana loves her, and then one to Brittany that she loves her, too, and that things will be okay.

But Santana doesn't even believe herself there, so.

She thinks about the wayward glances she received at school today and how she didn't really dwell on them because she was focused on Marley, but they all make much more sense now. If people overheard Finn in that hallway, the news has probably spread so far through that fucking school that Santana pretending to date the entire fucking football team wouldn't even help it.

Things are pretty fucking up in the air right now.

Her best friend has just fucked up her two year long, seemingly perfect relationship – a relationship that Santana secretly took so much fucking stock in that it actually really bothers her that it actually had a breaking point. Her best friend's boyfriend automatically assumed that Santana was the one at fault, still her fifteen-year-old self that meddles in other relationships, which fucking hurts, to be honest, and her girlfriend almost broke up with her because she thought the same.

And now, the entire school knows about her and Marley, which – fuck, they were so damn close to getting out unscathed, it's ridiculous.

–

It starts early, the next day.

She walks in on it just as it's about to happen, and she's powerless to do anything to stop the slushy from hitting Marley.

"Hah," Azimio screeches, "how's that, dyke?"

Santana sees red.

She rushes over and slaps Azimio before he can breathe, and then more jocks appear, holding slushies, ready to pounce. Santana steps in front of Marley, but she knows there's nothing she can do at this point, really.

"Look!" Azimio says, as if he didn't just get slapped silly. "And here's the _lover_. Always knew there was something up with you, Lopez, I guess I–"

"_Hey_," comes a voice from her left, and she looks over to see Quinn approaching, all stealthy and shit, power bitch face on – the one that makes even _Santana_ shiver, head cheerleader now or not.

Santana barely blinks before Puck comes into view, and then Mike and Tina, and Sam and Mercedes and the whole glee club appears out of nowhere, and Santana feels the relief spread all the way to her toes. She inches back a bit until she can feel Marley's waist with her outstretched hand, and then feels a bit more in control of the situation.

Azimio bursts out laughing. "The fag club ain't gonna stop me, honey," he sneers at Quinn, and Quinn just smirks right back.

"Thought you'd say that," is all Quinn says.

It's quiet for a moment, as Quinn seems to just wait for something, and Azimio just looks around, confused, before starting to smile and resuming his attacking position.

Until a new voice rings out in the hallway.

"I must say, Fabray, I'm not used to being _summoned_, unless it's by a dark lord, and so–"

Santana's never been so happy to see Sue Sylvester in her entire fucking life. Sue stops talking as soon as she takes in Santana shielding a slushied Marley, and the football team with cups in their hands, as well as the slowly gathering crowd forming around them.

It's like Santana can _see_ Azimio tucking his tail between his legs, because _no one _fucks with Sue or her Cheerios. Santana kind of stands up straight, finally, realizing she was actually goddamn cowering there – but like, it's not just her own welfare she needs to worry about anymore, so.

"Lopez, Adams, Rose, come with me," Sue says, then turns to the gathering students. "Don't the rest of you have some math to learn, or something?"

Her tone is icy, and the hallways are deserted in about two seconds.

Azimio follows Sue as she walks away and Santana turns to look at Marley immediately, looking at her with sorrow in her eyes.

Marley takes her off guard by asking, "Are you okay?"

And Santana just laughs slightly before reaching out to wipe some slushy off Marley's forehead so it doesn't go into her eyes.

"Me? You're the one who–"

"Sandbags!" comes Sue's voice, and Santana jumps slightly.

She sighs and turns to see Sue waiting for her at the end of the hallway with Azimio.

And fuck it, anyway, since it's out now, so she might as well comfort her girlfriend while they're at it. She takes Marley's hand and leads them down the hallways, shooting Azimio a piercing stare when he looks at their hands strangely.

And God, it's only the start of a _lifetime_ of this shit, Santana thinks.

–

Figgins is all like, _I'm a pussy and can't do shit_, and so when they're all outside again, Sue pulls Azimio aside and says something too quiet for Santana to hear. She watches as Azimio nods vigorously and scatters off rather fast for the giant that he is.

Sue rounds on them, then, pursing her lips slightly as she observes Marley's state and what must be an utterly furious expression on Santana's face.

"Anyone ever _looks_ at you funny from this point forward, you come straight to me, understand?"

Santana nods, but doesn't make eye contact with Sue, and she just feels a heavy hand on her shoulder before Sue's retreating.

"Get cleaned up and then go to your classes," Sue's voice travels down the hallway.

Santana's body goes into autopilot as she drags Marley to the Cheerio locker room, getting a towel and clothes from her locker and leading Marley over to the showers.

She feels a hand on her wrist, then, and realizes she's actually shaking so much that the towel isn't even hung on her arm anymore and must have fell off somewhere on the way to the showers.

"Santana," Marley says softly, and then Santana doesn't know why, but she just bursts out crying.

Marley's arms are around her immediately, slushy or not, and Santana clutches on to her like nothing on earth.

"I'm sorry," Santana says into her neck, over and over again, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Santana," Marley says, rubbing a hand over her back, "it's not your fault, come on. Shh, baby, I'm right here."

"Let's go home," Santana says through her tears. "Let's just go home, please. I don't want to be here anymore."

Marley holds her tighter. "We can't miss another day, San."

Santana shakes her head, even though she knows it to be true.

Marley pulls back and cups Santana's cheeks. "We're going to take a quick shower together," she says, then smiles slightly, "with no funny business, and then we're going to go out there and pretend nothing's wrong, and that they can't break us, okay?"

Santana nods and leans in to kiss Marley for a long moment, because...

What else can they do, really?

–

There's no more outright attacks, thanks to Sue's influence, but there's still the fucking _stares_, and the wayward words, and Santana will never stop feeling incredibly ill-equipped with her inability to protect Marley from it all.

She thought last year's Valentine's week was bad, but it really is nothing compared to this shit.

Finn comes and seeks her out, apologizes for screaming their secret in the halls, but she just waves him off, because, there's nothing he can do, now. She just tells him to like, give her some space, because she is quite angry at the situation, but like, he was hurting, and he is her friend so she gets that. And then there's also the fact that he and Brittany are still not speaking, and even though Brittany was the one with the misdemeanour on her record, she's Santana's best friend still, and that's where Santana's loyalty will stay.

She's been helping Brittany with tutoring every single day this week. It's going slow, but it's going, and Santana doesn't want anything to distract Brittany from her work right now. She's not about to leave this place without her best friend.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

The glee club makes it their personal mission to escort Santana and Marley everywhere, just like they did with Kurt last year. She thinks back to what a comfort the idea of it was, back then, but how in the midst of things, it's more just a very sad compromise in the reality of the situation.

Some part of her even wishes Karofsky was still here, and she could Bullywhip the lot of them with him.

She worries about Marley all the time, when they're separated. In the afternoons she holds Marley close, pretends the shit outside doesn't exist, but the school days are so fucking long and it's just... She almost hopes for another McKinley scandal to take attention off them at this point, because it's excruciating, at times.

Little does she know that it's not done. Obviously. Because that's just what her life is like now.

On the final day of the week, finally, thank God it's Friday and all that shit – it's only been four days, Santana realizes, yet it feels like a fucking lifetime – she walks into glee and it takes one look at Marley to know something is seriously amiss.

"What happened?" Santana says immediately, throwing her bag down and taking a seat next to Marley.

The club's still filling in, and it's just them and Mercedes so far, who tries and fails not to be sneaky as she stares at their interaction.

Marley looks lost, in a way, and looks to Santana for guidance as she whispers, "Er... I– The gossip, er, travelled, a bit."

Santana frowns. "Yeah, I got that part?"

"Travelled all the way to the kitchens," Marley supplies then, and Santana's eyes go wide.

"Does she–"

"Yeah." Marley's voice shakes. "She cornered me last night, and I... I couldn't outright lie to her like that, Santana, I just couldn't."

Santana nods, kind of freaking out, but Marley's clearly also freaking out about how Santana's going to react and she doesn't want to put Marley on edge.

"Uhm," Santana says. "What did she say?"

"She's okay," Marley says. "She... It's okay."

Santana's eyes close, calming slightly. "Are you okay?"

Marley nods. "Of course." She smiles slightly to alleviate Santana's stress, and it works.

Santana exhales heavily. "Okay. We'll talk about it later."

The club is still empty, and so Santana quickly leans over and kisses Marley's cheek, then takes Marley's hand in hers, scooting her chair closer.

"Y'all are _precious_," comes Mercedes' voice from behind her, and Santana just rolls her eyes, biting back a _Fuck you, Cedes_.

Instead, she just says, "I know," and settles against her girlfriend.

–

So.

Mrs Rose wants to like, _meet_ Santana.

Which is stupid, Santana thinks, as she's met the woman multiple fucking times.

It's just goddamn stupid, she thinks as she slowly, unsteadily pulls up into the Rose driveway like so many times before, about to have dinner with Marley and her mom, also like so many times before.

So stupid, Santana thinks, pulling at the modest sundress she quickly bought this afternoon, desperate to make a good impression, although the time for a first impression is so long gone that it's not even funny, really.

Marley opens her door and bites her lip a bit, taking in Santana's appearance. Marley's wearing sweatpants and a pretty sweater, and her hair is loosely tied, and Jesus Christ Santana is so screwed already.

"This is fucking stupid," Santana says, panic stricken. "I'm so overdressed, aren't I? Shit, I'm going to go home, okay? I'll be back in like two minutes. Or, do you have another pair of loose pants for me to borrow? I can just–"

"Santana," Marley says, stepping out onto the porch and throwing her arms around Santana. "Relax, hun. You look beautiful."

Santana just gulps, eyes wide and worried.

"My mom loves you," Marley reminds her. "It's just another dinner, like always, okay?"

Santana nods, but her expression doesn't change one bit, and Marley chuckles a bit before placing a quick kiss to Santana's nose.

"Come on," Marley murmurs, taking Santana's hand and pulling her into the house.

She feels a lot like she's being led to the gallows.

–

It actually goes really, really fine. Like, more than fine, actually, rather incredible.

It really is like every other night spent at Marley's house, only now there's this like, slight fear she has in Mrs Rose's company, but even that's manageable, so. So is not touching Marley the whole time for fear of Mrs Rose like, shooting her on the spot or something, but they've had lots of practice with that, anyway.

Until the end of dinner, when Mrs Rose waves her off when she offers to help with the dishes, and then she just like, _lingers_ until Marley drags her up the stairs to her room.

"Door open!" comes Mrs Rose's voice from downstairs, and Marley just shouts, "Mom!" in an exasperated tone.

Santana sniggers a bit, but stops when Marley glares at her.

"New rules?" Santana asks, and Marley nods.

"Sleepovers are now only allowed if you sleep on the couch, so wipe that smile off your face," Marley says, and God it happens in an instant.

"What?"

Marley nods, as if confirming. "It's dumb, actually. She doesn't care if we have sex, but apparently it's too much if she like, outrightly knows and allows it to happen, or something, I don't know."

Santana splutters. "Uhm, I, what, we– _Marley_. What the fuck?!"

"What?" Marley asks conversationally, flopping down on her bed.

"Why would you– I... Why...?" Santana just kind of stands frozen at the door, not appreciating the way Marley's smiling at her from the bed at _all_.

"It's my _mom_, San," Marley says, like it's supposed to be obvious, but God it's anything _but_. "Of course I'm going to talk to her about that stuff. She's okay, she just wants to know that I'm being safe."

"Oh my God," Santana says, finally stumbling over to the bed and taking a seat, dazed. "Mrs Rose knows that I like, _deflowered_ her little girl, Jesus Christ."

Marley bursts out laughing.

"Sweetheart, I'm kind of having a crisis here," Santana says seriously. "Not the time to laugh."

"You are so ridiculous," Marley murmurs, then leans over Santana and starts kissing her neck.

"Get off me," Santana hisses suddenly, jumping up and glancing over at the doorway, which is, thank God, empty. "I don't think I can ever touch you in this house again."

Marley just blinks at her once, looking at her all sultrily as she asks, "You sure?"

And fuck. That resolve didn't even last three seconds, Santana thinks.

–

"I can't do this," Brittany says.

Quinn rubs up and down her back and Santana looks at her for help. Quinn just shrugs, and Santana sighs.

They're in McKinley's library, helping Brittany catch up with algebra, but Brittany's so stressed out with everything else that she's barely paying attention.

"B, stop focusing on the big picture," Santana says. "Forget about graduating, about your other subjects and... about Finn," she adds quietly. "Look at this one problem, okay, concentrate on one thing at a time, and we'll get it down, okay?"

Brittany takes a deep breath and nods. She stretches her neck and pulls her papers closer, and Quinn nods at Santana when Brittany looks away.

They're doing everything they can, honestly.

She just hopes it'll work.

–

"We'll try again tomorrow," Santana tells Quinn, later when they're alone. "You two can come over to mine and I'll get us pizza."

Quinn blushes prettily and it confuses Santana.

"I can't," she says, and Santana crosses her arms.

"And why's that?" Santana asks, but the way Quinn's smiling coyly makes her smile in turn, already knowing she'll like the answer.

"I, erm, have a date."

Santana's jaw unlocks. "With who?"

"Erm," Quinn starts, eyes flitting up and down the hallways. "Puck."

Santana laughs. "Okay, seriously, Miss Yale. Who?"

Quinn stares at her. Santana's eyebrows shoot to the sky.

"Jesus Christ," Santana chuckles. "What is it with you and Berry hanging around each other's men like flies?"

Quinn just shakes her head and rolls her eyes and Santana almost turns around to nudge Finn and say, "Dodged a bullet there, my friend," before she remembers that he isn't really around anymore, and the thought makes her sad. She just sobers up and focuses on Quinn, who seems slightly disgruntled at Santana's reaction.

Santana sighs and brings out her realistic side to the conversation. "You know shit isn't going to follow you to Ivy League, right?"

Quinn shrugs. "I just... I don't want anything hanging on me when I leave. No regrets, right?"

Santana nods. She gets it, in a way, and is reminded once again of the school year end looming, and just how unprepared she is for that shit so far.

"No regrets."

–

Regionals is painful.

They win, but it's bittersweet. She feels like she's a part of this club more than ever, with the way they've been looking out for her and Marley, but with the heavy tension between Brittany and Finn that's been eclipsing all their classes so far, it just doesn't feel like the old days.

Regardless of Rachel, like Santana has considered before, Finn and Brittany are their glue, and everything feels strange, when they win and the two of them stay at polar opposites of the club, hugging everyone but each other.

She takes Brittany home, after, and despite buying them some ice cream and watching about three Pixar movies in a row, Brittany remains as desolate as she's been the past couple of weeks.

"Britt," Santana says, waiting for Brittany to actually _look_ at her for once before continuing. "Do you want to get back with Finn?"

Brittany tears up again, and fuck, Santana thinks. She just scoots over and throws her arm around Brittany's shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Brittany says.

"I'm not letting you fail, Britt," Santana assures her.

"I haven't even thought about college," Brittany admits.

"So? Neither have I."

"It's different. You and Marley, you're both smart, and you guys... Finn wants to be like Mr Shue, maybe, and I'm just..." Brittany shrugs.

"There are loads of dancing academies out there, B."

Brittany shrugs again. "I'm not good enough for that."

Santana laughs aloud. "Shut up, B, you're better than all of them."

Brittany just shrugs again. Santana sighs and goes back to her ice cream.

Later that night, she Googles every single place in New York she can find that has even the slightest bit to do with dancing, because, well.

(She's never been able to go without Brittany for too long, anyway.)

–

"Remember when you talked about the cheer competition videos McKinley had lying around somewhere, archived and stuff?" Santana asks Quinn the next day.

Quinn looks at her strangely, but still answers, "Yeah, why?"

"I need you to show me where it is, please."

When she's finished with Quinn, she tucks her pride away and corners Berry.

"Rachel," she grits out, and Berry looks so surprised at her actual name coming out of Santana's mouth that she kind of freezes, and Santana almost laughs. "Where can I find all our recorded glee competitions?"

Rachel stares at her for a second, but then shakes out of her daze and says, "I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

Santana nods and stalks off to the AV club – which is something she thought she'd never do as long as she was alive, but whatever, here she is.

"JBI," she sneers, and he looks at her with a pathetic attempt at being cool. She holds out her hand and says, "I'd like every tape you've taken of the glee club performing around this pathetic school, please. Though, you can keep the ones of Rachel you've wanked off to, thanks, and wipe that shit before you hand it over."

JBI gulps and starts gathering shit for her immediately.

She's nothing if not resourceful.

–

The only thing funnier than Blaine is his brother, apparently, and the only reason Santana refrains from commenting on that shit is because Sue is in the club right now, and she knows her cheer coach would think it to be bad form, what with how the brother's got her knickers all in a twist.

Still, there's something about him talking about head shots and sides and she doesn't know what else, but it all sounds... Well, it's somewhat exciting, Santana has to admit, and Marley must catch the thoughtful expression on her face, because she smiles and leans closer.

"Wanna act, darling?" she whispers.

Santana says, "Maybe," but what she really means is she doesn't fucking know at all.

Marley seems to read her mind, because after glee she holds onto Santana's hand, holding her back until they're alone in the choir room and looks at Santana shyly. She walks forward and places both her hands on Santana's shoulders, and Santana brings her closer by putting her hands on Marley's hips.

"Hmm?" Santana murmurs, knowing there's something on Marley's mind. She doesn't know how, she just does – finally figured out how Marley always knew how to read her for the past year, it's just like they were meant to do it, somehow.

"You want to come over to mine after school?" Marley asks softly.

Santana frowns. "I'm already coming over, aren't I?"

Marley shrugs. Bites her lip. Santana smiles invitingly. (She loves that she knows how to follow the dance, by now.)

"I got some brochures from Rachel," Marley starts. "Maybe you could bring your laptop over..." Marley looks down for a second, ears darkening, before making eye contact again. "We could... er... Maybe start looking at some schools? If you wanted to, together, of course."

Santana's quiet for a while, and Marley fidgets with the ends of Santana's uniform.

"Like, in New York, you know?" Marley elaborates, like that part wasn't quite clear.

A wide grin overtakes Santana's face.

"That'd be awesome," she breathes, and Marley's shyness evaporates.

She leans up for a quick kiss, mindful that they're still at school, and already feels how the pressure seems lessened, somewhat, just at the _thought_ of creating something concrete for her future to zero in on.

–

"Rachel says this one is like Juilliard for singers, or something," Marley says, handing Santana something that's altogether too colourful for Santana's taste.

"En-why-ay-dee-ay?" Santana spells out.

"No, like, knee-ya-da," Marley corrects.

"Sounds really gay," Santana mutters, and Marley looks at her all disapprovingly. Santana rolls her eyes. "It's totally okay when I say it."

Marley just huffs. "Well?"

"Looks Broadway-ish," Santana says. "Not like the place for an aspiring radio singer-songwriter."

"They help you with everything, apparently. All performing arts."

"Only thing that matters is if you like it, sweets. The rest is easy."

"Not you?"

"I don't think I really belong at a place like that," Santana admits, giving the pamphlet back to Marley.

"What do you mean?"

Santana shrugs. "I just want to go to like, a regular school, like it is here. Where I do my shit, but every now and then I get to sing when I want to, you know? Like as a minor, maybe," she says. Then, in a smaller voice she adds, "And maybe delve into some like, theatre or acting shit, or whatever the fuck."

Marley still hears her, though, and Santana sees a small smile bloom on her girlfriend's face.

"Gimme your laptop," Marley says.

They lay side by side on Marley's bed as Marley opens a page and literally just presses in, _universities in new york_, opens a map, and then there are so many little red dots littered across the city that it makes Santana's head hurt.

"Jesus Christ," Santana mutters. "How do we do this?"

Marley just starts clicking like a maniac, opening everything and reading faster than Santana keep up.

"See what feels right," is all Marley says, and Santana just groans.

Even so, Santana kind of likes the unpredictability of it all, like the next page that opens might just be the one where she lands on her future, right there. She makes Marley skip anything Ivy League, though, since she's just not cut out for that shit, but does check it out for Brittany and Marley, anyway.

It's like, she doesn't really have much direction bar, _be famous and fuck shit up forever_, but she can totally imagine herself going into the whole university thing undeclared, kind of just figuring it out all over again, starting at the beginning. Though, this time she'll do it with someone at her side and her best friends not that far away either, and well.

That doesn't sound all too fucking bad, Santana thinks.

–

Brittany plops down at lunch grinning broadly at Santana, and Santana's so happy to see this change in her friend that she smiles on instinct, without even knowing what caused it.

"Look!" Brittany says, thrusting something in her face.

When Santana backs away somewhat she sees Brittany's latest math test with a C+ on it, and she jumps up in joy, wrapping Brittany in her arms.

"B, that's amazing!" she whispers in her ear.

"I'm really doing it, San," comes Brittany's awe-filled reply, and Santana just hugs her tighter, feels how the world shifts into place just that little more.

When Brittany lets go and Quinn takes over on the congratulatory front, Santana sits back down and lets the smile linger on her face.

It dissolves into a shiver when Marley leans in and whispers in her ear, "You're so sexy when you help your friends like that," and then places a hand on Santana's thigh under the table, and Santana just focuses on breathing, really.

–

With a little – okay, a lot of – help from Sue, and her tons of footage that she forced – in the most polite way she could, of course – some AV nerd to compile for her, Santana manages to score Brittany an audition at Rutgers.

It's all on Brittany, though, her amazing talent and her pulling her grades together at last. Santana only like, pitched in to fake a personal statement, but whatever, she knows Brittany as well as the back of her hand, so. In another world, she knows Brittany would have done the same for her.

"It's just an option, B," Santana explains to Brittany.

"But consider it, fast, Tweedle Dumb," Sue interjects. "Auditions only run to the end of this month."

"I talked to your parents, though, and they're totally down with flying you out," Santana concludes.

Brittany looks down at the paper in her hands for long moments, and Santana glances to Sue for an answer, only gets a stony look in reply. When Brittany finally looks up, Santana sees her eyes are glassy and she's smiling slightly.

"Thank you, San," she says shakily, leaning in to throw her arms around Santana's shoulder.

"All you, Britty," Santana whispers in her ear, hugging her in turn.

"I love you," Brittany whispers back.

"You too," Santana says, rather easily, for a change.

"What about you?" Brittany asks when they're outside in the hallway. "I haven't done anything for you."

Santana just laughs and links their pinkies together, walking them to their next class.

"You've been taking care of me for a long time, Britt-Britt. I learned a thing or two along the way."

–

The Friday before they go off to cheerleading nationals, Santana does all she can to appease Marley's mind about the trip, but Marley just waves her off and says, "I trust you," between long kisses, and that seems to be the end of that.

This Roz chick knows what she's doing, Santana can give her that. Their routines and shit have been so different than what the judges have been used to, but it still works spectacularly. There's one other team that Santana worries about, but it seems the novelty of their performance wins out, and the Cheerios put yet another win in their arsenals.

When she and Brittany and Quinn engulf each other in a giant hug, afterwards, Santana has never felt such a twist of emotions before – this is the way they started, together, and this is the very last time, ever, and just...

Santana pushes it all down, and tries to just revel in the moment, helping Becky lift that ridiculously large trophy as high in the air as they can get it.

–

Mr Shue's been up her ass during disco week for some reason, never seeming to care about her and then suddenly like worrying about what she's going to do about her future. It's all too schizophrenic for Santana to even keep up with.

She indulges him anyway, because like, between Mercedes who doesn't know what direction she's going to head in, and Finn being all lost without Brittany, she feels pretty confident about her chances after school, with recent developments. Also, Marley sings Knock On Wood to her early in the week, and she's just a puddle during and after it. So, she'd actually also really like to sing something back to her girlfriend, since that's something they can do in glee now.

At the end of the week she finally gives in and breaks out the disco, happy to be able to just _sing_ to Marley without fear of anything, alone in front of everyone, and the look on Marley's face while she has _so much _fun singing, _m__y knees are shakin__g__ baby, __m__y heart it beats like a drum_, is just like, _yeah_.

(She contemplated ditching the disco somewhat for singing the epic 80s Midler's The Rose – which, how apt – for like a millisecond there, but then shook herself out of that shit because she's not _that_ a fucking far gone cliché.

Yet.)

After, when Shuester is all misguided about her _again_ – although, lawyer doesn't sound so bad, she'd totally kick ass fucking people up in a professional way – she assures him that no, singing definitely has to be part of the deal for her.

She doesn't even blink when she says that Marley will always be her girlfriend, because well.

Like she said, there are few things she's scared of anymore.

–

One of those things pops out of nowhere, when it's least fucking welcome in her life, really.

Her afternoon starts out average.

She brings in the weekend by filling out what feels like shit-tons of application forms, taking her chance at everything that could possibly suit her on their education search the other day, but takes care with each one, of course. They've prepared for this final stretch, writing their motivation letters by themselves and printing out everything they needed for the next step, and now it's just all about the assembly. Monday morning first thing, these babies will be going out into the universe.

Marley's lip sticks out of her mouth as she works and Santana stares for long moments until Marley smacks her to get on with her own mission.

Santana's gunning for one school in particular, but she tries not to focus on that too much and jinx it, so she just puts her attention on _getting_ to New York, still. Marley steered away from NYADA in the end, deciding that she would just get sidetracked by Broadway if she went there. Marley's narrowed it down to two. Santana fell in love for Marley's part as soon as they looked at Steinhart.

"Look at that, babe," Santana had said. "Like a million different music programmes and they– Shit, there's even a _songwriting_ course, I mean, really."

Marley just looked modest, biting her lip and shrugging, but Santana could see the fire in her eyes, Ivy League or not.

And now, she watches as Marley takes extra care with her Steinhart application, and also her second choice of Marymount, about three times as long as the others, and Santana just smiles to herself and lets her girlfriend be.

When the sun starts to set, Santana stretches and places the last of her envelopes on the stack on the end of her bed.

She just kind of looks at their stacks side by side like that, like fuck, this is really happening, then feels a hand tangle with hers and looks to her left to see her own awe mirrored on Marley's face. Marley smiles brilliantly at her, and Santana's gaze just travels back to the piles.

"This is happening," Santana states.

"It is," Marley says. She looks at Santana in that way that lets Santana know she can be totally honest, if she wants to. "Are you scared?"

Santana grins. "Not one bit."

Marley grins in answer and jumps off the bed, so quickly that Santana just blinks as she moves the envelopes to Santana's desk, fast but careful, then stands on the side of Santana's bed and bites her lip. She reaches out and tugs Santana closer so Santana's hips face Marley on the side of her bed, and Santana gulps.

"We should celebrate," Marley states simply, and Santana nods so fast she's sure something in her neck disconnects.

"We should," Santana echoes, already wet just from the way Marley's _looking _at her, and _fuck_.

Marley takes her shirt off, just like that, standing there with just her bra on and grinning wickedly, and Santana gulps again. She leans over Santana sexily, parts Santana's legs and lowers her body to rest her hips between Santana's thighs, and Santana wonders if that's her heartbeat there or if there's an attack of some sort happening. Marley grins down at her, pushing Santana until she lies on her back, then leans down and kisses Santana deeply, hungrily, and Santana moves immediately so she can _touch_.

Santana groans into the kiss and reaches down pop the button on Marley's jeans. Marley interrupts the process by ridding Santana of her sweater, leaving her in just her tank top, and Santana reaches up and pulls Marley down by her neck again, kissing her with the same passion as before.

She moans into Marley's mouth as their tongues meet, and then she can't seem to hold back any more, and puts her left hand in Marley's pants. Her knees are pulled up high already, and she uses the toes on her left foot to like, press Marley into her fingers, as if Marley's not already pushing her hips into Santana gently by herself.

It's times like these when she feels she just can't get _close_ enough to Marley, but she know she's gonna do everything she can to _try_.

"Santana," Marley breathes, disconnecting their lips and placing hot kisses along her jaw.

"Santana."

Santana just hums out, bringing her free hand up to tangle in Marley's hair, arching into Marley slightly.

"_Santana_."

It's weird, how it doesn't really register for a few seconds, but when Marley goes totally fucking dead still on top of her, it's the first sign of something being amiss. Her eyes shoot open when she realizes that no, that couldn't actually have been Marley's voice, because Marley's mouth was kind of busy with her earlobe there, and then, _fuck_.

She tilts her head upwards to look behind her, only to be met with the sight of her mother, appearing upside down in her doorway, and holy fucking fuck fuck.

"Shit!" Santana screeches. "_Mom!_"

She doesn't know what comes first, her pulling her hand out of Marley's pants – though luckily Marley is so close to her that her mom couldn't _possibly _have seen... could she? – or pushing Marley off her as she sits upright and grabs her discarded sweater to cover up Marley left in only her bra.

She looks at her mother with wide eyes, and her mother looks back with equal surprise. It scares her that, for the first time in her life, she can't read her mother's expression at all.

"Mom..." she says weakly, fear rising in her chest so fast that she can barely breathe, let alone speak.

Her mom just clears her throat and averts her eyes from their bare skin.

"Get dressed," her mother says, tone completely neutral, and Santana hates that she just has no idea what's happening in her head. "And meet us downstairs when you're decent."

When she disappears again, there's a deafening silence, and Santana can't fucking breathe, like, she's pretty sure she's fucking dying – maybe even already dead, placed in the highest level of hell or some shit like that.

"Santana," comes Marley's urgent whisper, "Santana, it's okay, it's–"

"It's not fucking _okay_, Marley, Christ," Santana bites, then snatches her sweater from Marley's grip, putting it on angrily. "They were supposed to be fucking out all night, for God sake, and they just..." She shakes her head bitterly.

It's horrible, like, honestly, her future is lying right fucking there on her desk, two feet from her, and yet it may be about to be taken away from her like five minutes from now. _So fucking careless_,_ Santana_, she tells herself, because honestly, could she not keep it in her pants ten minutes longer?

She looks up to find Marley's broken expression, and shit, she's let fucking Snix out again, when they're supposed to band together here. She doesn't say anything, just moves closer to Marley and places both hands on her cheeks, bringing their foreheads together.

"That was dumb," Santana murmurs. "Please forgive me."

Marley nods against her, breathing out heavily.

"I'm here," is all she says, and really, that's all Santana needs.

–

Santana's asked a myriad of questions, and feels super fucking silly sitting on the couch on front of their parents like that, Marley perched so far from her she might as well be on the other side of the world.

There's the standard, _How long has this been going on, _and _What about __th__e__ boy with the hair_, the dreadful _Are you sure this isn't_ _a phase_, even _Is it something we did_, and those type of shitty observations just feel so far removed from anything Santana's gone through these last few years that she just kind of sits there and frowns, no answers ready. She's violently reminded what the _outside world_, so to speak, thinks and sees when it looks at her, and it makes her stomach churn. She wonders where all these stereotypes originated from, because, honestly.

Her _parents_ were the last thing on her mind the first time she looked at Marley – even Brittany – and was like, _I totes want to get up on this girl_.

She just groans at every single question and only answers the ones that don't make her feel like bringing up her lunch, looking at Marley every now and then as if wanting to draw courage from the simple sight of her.

After a while, her parents just kind of sit there and look at her, and fucking hell.

"I'm still Santana," she mutters. "Jesus. I don't see what's changed."

Her parents kind of shrug and Marley looks at her with a small smile, and Santana smiles back before rolling her eyes at her parents.

"Well, if that's all," Santana says. She waits for a second, but hears no objections, then stands up. "I'm going to take Marley home now. I won't run off to Tribeca in the process, fuck sake."

Her dad cracks a slight smile at that, thank God, and with a heart that's just like, two grams lighter than before, Santana drags Marley out of the house for a much needed break.

–

She parks in the obscured part of Marley's street again, turns off her car and sighs as she rests her head against the car seat and closes her eyes.

Marley, who tangled her hand with Santana's on the gear shift in silent support, lifts up their joined hands and places a soft kiss on Santana's knuckles.

Eventually, Santana breaks the comfortable silence. "Was it like that with your mom?"

Marley nods. "Yeah. But with more questions."

Santana snickers and squeezes Marley's hand.

"Hey," Marley coos, leaning over and kissing Santana's shoulder. "No one's homeless. So, there's that."

"Yeah," Santana says. "I guess."

"C'mere," Marley says, then kisses Santana deeply, for long moments, until Santana forgets all the sorrow and the troubles clouding her mind, until her head is filled with Marley, just like their song says, and her heart and lungs and every other part of her just like, _sings_ out Marley's name.

–

When she gets home, all she wants to do is sleep.

She all but tip-toes to the stairs, but apparently she's not being stealthy enough, and her parents call her into the living room where they're watching a movie.

Santana just leans her head through the doorway, wanting to save herself from another draining conversation this time around.

"We love you, honey," her mother says simply, and Santana just blinks at them.

"Okay," Santana says dumbly.

"Marley's a lucky girl," is all her father offers.

"Okay," is all Santana can say, again.

Her dad chuckles again, and her mom just rolls her eyes.

"Go to bed, sweetie," her mother says, and Santana really doesn't need to be told twice to do that shit.

"Okay."

–

Sunday, Santana gets all dressed up and goes to church with her parents for the first time in ages. They've entered a new kind of peace at home, where her parents are being all _respectful of her choices_, or whatever the fuck, but she likes it a bit, so that's okay.

She's always had a great relationship with her parents, so it doesn't bother her much, she's just kind of still surprised at it all and still trying to get used to the fact that they, like, _know_ now.

They meet her abuela at the entrance and they all take a seat together in the pews, and then Santana just settles in for the hour, trying not to role her eyes every time the pastor makes some inane comment that doesn't compute in her mind at all.

She takes some time to look at her grandma, who, all things considered, has been a pretty solid fucking person in Santana's life all along. Her parents want her to like, _tell_ abuela and shit at lunch this afternoon, because, well.

As a devout follower of the God of Love, or what not, surely she could see that Santana is simply, well, _Santana_ still, and find it somewhere in her heart to treat her granddaughter exactly the same way she has these past seventeen years.

Right?

Wrong.

Santana's not delusional enough to take stock in that situation, and so, with only the idea of her parents driving her to do that shit, and no external pressure, Santana rejected the idea as soon as it came up. She loves her abuela a shitload, but fuck, she's not ready, just not yet. There's still her whole college resolution, in the back of her mind, and maybe in her second year at the earliest, she'll start letting her inner-sapphic out around the rest of her family.

She's been through far too much this year already.

She thinks she deserves a little break, before the shit starts all over again.

–

Marley starts Whitney week off by singing I'm Your Baby Tonight to Santana, which is so spectacular that Santana just does that thing where she sits back and simply _marvels _at this wonderful girl who, for some reason, chose to stick around her.

Santana likes her some Whitney, but she's content to sit back this week and letting everyone else do their stuff, supporting the numbers but not taking on any herself, except a duet with Rachel, which morphs into one of the strangest experiences – and, well, friendships, she admits grudgingly – she's ever encountered. But other than that, she's just still too caught up in all her personal shit that, hopefully, seems to be dying down, finally. Honestly, there can't be much more backlash that she needs to get through in her two months left at McKinley.

Can there?

Brittany sings Dance With Somebody, but there's something incredibly solemn about it, in a way. She fake dances with Mike and Puck and Blaine, then it's like she almost begs Finn to come and take over from them with her eyes, but he's just not biting that at all.

Santana throws Marley and Quinn a look and they nod at her and then the three of them jump up to dance with Brittany instead. She smiles, thankful, but it still doesn't liven her demeanour up at all.

And really, if Brittany's really not going to help herself, here, Santana will intervene once again.

At lunch, Santana tracks Finn down on the football field. He's just kind of wandering around like a loser, so bent on avoiding the glee club that he'd rather be dwelling out here like a lonely tool.

"Frankenteen," she calls, and he looks so surprised to see her there that he spins around and almost trips over himself when he hears her voice.

"Santana?" he asks, but he knows it's her, and steps forward to greet her, and Jesus, that stupid fucking grin...

Goddamnit.

She's missed him, for fuck sake.

"Come here, twat," she says, and then he's engulfing her in a hug, and she stays there for longer than she should, probably, but she doesn't really care that much.

He lets her go after a while, but she just murmurs, "No," and then he chuckles and keeps holding her. He's only allowed to let go when she fucking orders him too, obviously. God.

When she finally backs away, he wraps his arms around himself and looks sad again, and fuck, he and Brittany just need to be like, slapped silly and tied together with duct tape or some shit. She volunteers herself for that mission, because that sounds suddenly interesting, for some reason.

"What's up?" he asks, shaking her out of her random taping thoughts.

"Let me reverse the roles of last year on you, Hagrid," Santana says, "and ask you to please, for all our sakes, just _talk_ to Brittany, please?"

Finn looks down. "She really hurt me."

"I'm not going to stand here and explain how she thought she did that _for_ you, since you know it already," Santana huffs. "But Finnocence, high school's almost over. If only for some closure, for both of you."

Finn's face goes all frowny like it does, and Santana wonders if he's going to cry, but prays to God he doesn't, 'cause they might be closer, but she's not equipped for that shit.

"I don't know," he says softly, and Santana can't help but roll her eyes somewhat.

"Yeah," she scoffs, "and the fact Puck told me you applied for every education major within breathing distance of Rutgers, just in case? _That's_ being unsure?"

Finn looks down, sheepish, and just shrugs. Santana sighs.

"She made a mistake, Finn," Santana says softly. "Brittany's better than all of us, you know that. She's the best person in the world."

Finn nods, and Santana leaves it at that. She leans in and goes in for another quick hug with her arms around his middle – though, really, what other possible part of him could she reach? – and he clutches her back just as tight.

It ends up being just as long as the first one, but whatever.

–

Santana starts looking at everything as if it's slipping from her fingers, in a way.

She starts doing double takes in the hallways, knowing that there isn't a lot of time left for her to be staring at them anymore. She starts worrying that soon, she won't remember the details, like that crack in the paint right by the girls bathroom or the brownish spot on the choir room roof that always seems to align right with Mr Shue's head like it's attracting it like a similar-coloured magnet of some kind.

And she doesn't know why those things seem so significant, all of a sudden.

Then there are the big things, like her locker and Marley's locker, or her and Quinn and Brittany's spot in the Cheerios locker room, or even the dark curtains of the auditorium which has served for many a clandestine make out session with Marley before and after glee.

Or these moments, like right now, in chemistry, her favourite special class with Marley, where she's content with staring at Marley's beauty instead of paying attention. Until Marley notices, of course, nudging her with a smile, red ears in place and all.

Santana bites her lip, and takes out the note she's been carrying in her pocket and puts it on the table for Marley to take.

Marley looks at her questioningly and Santana just pushes it closer to her. Santana's been wanting to ask for a while, but she knows how she gets, and doesn't want to make a fool of herself by tripping all over her words like she knows she will, and so thought a note would be the way to go. Her mind immediately went to Marley's stupid chemistry jokes last year and stuck with it for some reason.

It's silly, but it's the kind of thing Marley likes, so. Santana knows her own idiocy will pay off, hopefully.

Marley opens the letter and Santana sees the picture she glued there – two evening gowns pasted over what must be the worst stickman drawings of the two of them in history, with a simple note written underneath.

_In the market for a prom date._

_Got my ion you._

Marley snorts and smooths out the paper in her hands, purposefully not making eye contact with Santana. Santana gauges that she's honest to God trying not to laugh out loud, by the way she's breathing in deeply and biting her lip.

After a few seconds, Marley turns and tries to glare at Santana, but she can't quite manage to wipe the pleased look off her face to do so properly.

"What have I told you about stunts like these in class?" Marley says, in mock-admonishment.

Santana's glad to have the upper hand here, for fucking once in her life. "Wanna kiss me, sweetheart?" she asks cheekily.

Marley shakes her head, looking Santana up and down. "Not just kiss," she whispers, and fuck.

The upper hand was but a fleeting thought.

–

She doesn't really mean to be all insensitive to domestic abuse on purpose, it's just that shit like that makes her very fucking uncomfortable, and lash-out humour has always been her favourite home-base, so.

She feels _awful_, when coach Beiste sits them all down and tell them about her problems, and _shit_, that's some real life shit that Santana never thought she'd actually get into contact with, privileged bitch that she is. When Beiste makes that comment about their boyfriends being able to turn on them like that, she shoots Marley a glance out of the corner of her eye, surprised to find Marley biting her lip, looking equally as uncomfortable.

It hits her more than she lets on, the whole Beiste thing, and she keeps it all in until she's sitting on Marley's couch later, taking a break from studying and watching a funny film to take her mind off shit. It doesn't work so well, because halfway, she reaches over and hits pause, staring at Marley for long moments.

Marley just waits, rubbing her hand over Santana's knuckles, and Santana's lips turn up slightly at the move.

"You know I'd never hurt you like that, right?" Santana asks softly, and she doesn't even have to say she means for Marley to get on board.

"Of course I do, Santana," Marley answers seriously. "I'd never either."

Santana knows, because Marley is too many kinds of wonderful to ever go there. She's still worried, though, because like, shit, the things Beiste said, just. Fuck, man.

"If aliens ever take over my body and like, make my limbs even _twitch_ your way in a threatening manner, just knock me out and run, okay?" Santana says, trying to joke her way through it, but Marley doesn't smile, seeing through her once again.

Marley leans forward and tucks herself into Santana's side, nuzzling her neck. "That's not us," Marley says simply. "It will never be."

Santana nods, smelling Marley's hair and feeling the softness of her skin against her, and is hit with the familiar feeling of gentleness that exists between them.

She can't help but agree with Marley then, as per usual, and just presses play on their movie again.

–

Brittany seems to fair better when she gets slightly distracted from her pain by planning prom, and Santana doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing when it turns out that she decides on _dinosaurs_ as a theme.

Which is actually fucking _awesome_ in a way Santana won't admit out loud, because that stuff's for geeks, but hey. Santana gets away with praising Brittany's genius, anyway, so.

She can see Finn smiling slightly at the announcement, and God, those two are still so much on the same page, even when apart, that Santana strongly reconsiders the duct tape thing for a second there.

After school, Santana, Brittany and Quinn go dress shopping. Quinn is still all hyped up about being prom queen, even a year later, and is all serious about getting the _perfect_ dress to help with her campaign. Santana and Brittany just has fun with trying on the most ridiculous shit they can, though Santana does keep an eye out for anything that she thinks would work, because, like. Maybe she kind of wants to like, look pretty for her girlfriend, and stuff.

The whole afternoon feels so much like the retro version of the three of them, many years ago before all the shit, that Santana just revels in _being_ with them like this. Everything is _finally_ perfect, here.

Santana didn't even run for prom queen this year, because she's not taking any risks after the shit that went down with Kurt last year and the adversity that greeted them only a short while ago, and she's not putting herself or Marley in the line of fire. Sure, Brittany instated a great anti-bullying policy for the night and shit, but high school idiots will always be high school idiots, so.

Also, she hates the student body so much after all the shit this year, she doesn't even _want_ their approval anymore. She just feels like she needs nothing from no one except the undivided attention of one Marley Rose, so.

Whatever.

Quinn and Santana totally came up with the best idea, though. Tomorrow, Brittany will be totally surprised when she finds out that she and Finn are nominated for king and queen, and Santana and Quinn will just sit there grinning at their on point string-pulling abilities.

For now, though, Santana just smiles as Brittany puts some bear-type wool hat on Quinn, which clashes terrifically with the pink dress she's trying on, then full out screams with laughter at the look that appears on Quinn's face when she spots the full effect in the mirror.

–

Santana invited Marley and her mom over for drinks before prom. She simply doesn't feel, like, _butch_ enough or some shit to go pick Marley up and stuff, and doesn't expect Marley to do that shit either.

There's still this moment, though, when Marley steps into the living room while Santana stands there waiting, where she's like, whoa, yeah, she totally doesn't mind waiting on Marley's every whim when she's looking like _that_. She doesn't realize she's gone completely limp until her dad's hand lands on the small of her back and she like, stumbles forward a bit, gaping at every detail of Marley's _being_, all the way from her flowing green dress to the pretty silver pendants keeping her hair up.

She looks fucking _beautiful_, in the most effortless way imaginable, and Santana suddenly feels incredibly inadequate in comparison.

Before she knows it, they're being pressed together for photos by their parents – who are like, _meeting_ each other, and Santana would be wholly focused on that if it weren't for this fucking goddess on her arm. She's sure all the photos are just Marley smiling at the camera with Santana gaping at her like a fish at her side, and because of that she can help but wonder, briefly, if they bear any resemblance to Marley's photos with Sam last year.

It's like she blacks out, completely, lost in a daze of blue eyes and bright smiles until loud music invades her ears and she looks around to find herself at prom already, with a drink in her hand and everything.

Marley smiles at her wickedly, and shit, she knows _exactly_ what she's doing to Santana, and it's just not fair. "You okay, San?" she asks innocently, and just. _Just_.

"God," Santana says, "I love you so fucking much."

Marley just kisses Santana quickly, right there by their table, not giving a fuck about anything other than _them_, either, and Santana smiles into it before putting her drink down and holding her hand out to dance with Marley. She pulls Marley close, mindful of their surroundings now, just in case, but also wholly enjoying the feeling of Marley a close to her like this, all dressed up for each other.

It's such a big contrast from last year, where everyone seemed so unhappy, and as Santana takes a look across the room, she's happy to see Kurt actually dancing with Blaine, too, this time, and Quinn slowly swaying with Puck. She gives Quinn a small smile over Marley's shoulder, and Quinn looks at her with that soft look that she only gets like, once every year, and Santana can't imagine a more perfect moment for it than this.

Quinn nods over to her left, and Santana's smile widens when she looks over. It seems their intervention wasn't needed, anyway, as Finn took a chance and asked Brittany to prom as friends, since, well, who else would they have taken, really? Finn and Brittany even look marginally happier with their arms put awkwardly around each other, some distance kept between them. But it's _something_, so Santana's pleased about that.

"I'm really happy we're here," Marley whispers right into her ear. "You look gorgeous."

Santana's sure her face is shit hot right now. "Me, too," she answers. "You have no idea."

Marley pulls away and looks at her softly. "I really do," she says, then kisses Santana softly again, smiling against Santana's mouth.

There's a moment when Santana really panics as they get together to hear prom queen announcements, still expecting some kind of attack, but is relieved when nothing happens. Even better, she watches as Quinn's entire _life_ is made in one moment, and honestly, Santana's never seen Quinn smile the way she does when that crown hits her head.

She cheers louder than anyone else, then hears an answering volume from the other side of the auditorium and looks over to find her gaze linked with Brittany, and they just share this _look_ that...

It's one of those magical type of nights, really.

–

The last hurdle of the year is coming up, and Santana doesn't know if she's happy or sad or excited or...

Well, her emotions are all over the fucking place, really. Like, it's nationals, and then she knows envelopes will start arriving in her mailbox, and then she anticipates a fucking unstoppable avalanche of university preparation shit to just crush her out of nowhere, really.

She's not the only one feeling the pressure, it seems. Sue's lost the plot with this prop thing, Santana can _smell_ Shuester's desperation for allowing it to happen, and then there's–

"What's happening with your bff?" Santana asks Marley as they watch as Tina scurries around and grumbles to everyone within earshot.

"She feels neglected by Mr Shue," Marley says, leaning back into Santana's arms. They're seated at the back of the choir room, Santana's arms wrapped around her and waiting for everyone to settle in for their lesson.

The nervous tension that always fills the club right before nationals is alive in a grand way, and Santana, for once, is as cool as a cucumber, sitting and just drinking it all in, one last time.

"You're going to miss her," Santana states. Marley nods against her, sighing.

"I'm worried about her. Mike and I are both graduating, so it'll just be her left over and..." Marley sighs again. "It won't be nice for her."

Santana can't even imagine. She knows the lengths she went to just to make sure her own best friend went with her, and even entertaining the idea of going _anywhere_ without Brittany seems absolutely preposterous now, so. Santana thinks that, if she were in the same situation as Marley, she'd probably want some assurance that not all is lost, at least, then aims to remind Marley that she's still there, every step of the way.

"We'll Skype her all the time," Santana reassures.

Marley turns her head around and kisses Santana's cheek.

"You bet your ass we will," Marley says, trying to imitate Santana, for some reason, and Santana just snorts, keeps holding Marley.

Keeps drinking it all in.

–

When she opens her door to find Brittany crying on her porch, she freaks the fuck out.

She really doesn't want to get violent with Finn, but...

Like, she knows Brittany was in the wrong there, but she's still so fucking ready to go pounce on that giant, it's unreal.

Brittany can see Santana's demeanour, though, and reaches out to stop her.

"Santana," Brittany says, smiling through her tears, and Santana's confused.

Then Brittany's other hand comes into view, tightly clutched around an official-looking letter.

"I got in."

Santana zeroes in on the paper, and when it clicks, she's laughing as she jumps up and down while holding Brittany in her arms.

"I got in," Brittany says, then keeps repeating it like a mantra, like she still can't quite believe it, and Santana just holds her tighter.

So, she got Brittany there, Santana just needs to haul herself in after her best friend.

–

If she thought Cheerio nationals were bittersweet, it doesn't hold a candle to glee.

"How's Chicago?" Marley asks her as they take a stroll around their hotel block, hands linked and sharing an energy bar.

Santana shrugs. "It's okay."

Marley chuckles. "It's not New York."

Santana hums. "Not quite."

When they get back to the hotel, they're caught up in one more storm, it seems – fucking glee coaster strikes again, Santana thinks, rolling her eyes – and Santana can't help but dote on Wheezy, because, hello. She experienced a competition without the bitch lately, and wasn't so fond of the experience, so.

Plus, Wheezy was so nice as to let the rest of the girls in on the Troubletones number, so Santana owes her one, actually.

Later, changed into her costume and everything, she just stares at herself in the mirror for a moment.

Like.

Shit.

That's Santana Lopez in that mirror. Head cheerleader. Queen bitch. Headed for New York. Ex-slut turned totally monogamous (whipped) girlfriend of Marley Rose. (Avid and proud) glee club member.

It's sometimes hard for that reality to sink in, but in the moments it does, Santana feels pretty fucking impressed with herself, truth be told.

Arms wrap around her waist and then Marley's face appears in the mirror, perched on her shoulder.

"I don't blame you for staring," Marley murmurs hotly.

Her fingers reach up and briefly graze the underside of Santana's breasts, and Santana pretends to scoff at the action, before tangling her own fingers with Marley's.

"Why, Miss Rose," Santana puts on an accent. "I'll have you know I am a lady of the court, bound by chastity and honour, dear madam."

"Letting me take you like that last night wasn't very honourable of you" Marley whispers, and Santana gasps.

(With Sue's resources, their budget allowed Marley to room with Santana in their lodgings completely alone. It was probably not very conductive to their sleeping patterns, but so worth it.)

"Holy fuck," Santana says. "What's gotten into you?"

"Performance high," Marley says. "I can't be held accountable for my actions."

Santana stops herself from fucking Marley right there and leading them over to the rest of the crew.

"Here's to hoping that shit lasts until _after_ we win, too."

–

It does.

They join in on the celebrations this time, and by the time they get back to their hotel, they're tipsy and already half naked as Marley presses her against the door, hard.

"We won," Santana breathes out, not really sure how she's kissing Marley when she still can't stop smiling. "We actually made it."

"Yup," Marley says. "And the glee club did, too."

Santana laughs, and then it turns into a squeal as Marley picks her up by her thighs and carries her over to the bed, stripping them of their clothing before making Santana feel like she won that trophy all over again.

–

They wait until every letter arrives before placing them all together on Santana's living room table. They stare at it for a while before she hears Marley sigh.

"Shall we?" Marley says slowly, and Santana just nods mutely, reaching for her little stack.

She puts the one she wants most on the bottom, which is a fucking stupid idea, it turns out, because all the others just kind of blur in her mind until she finds that she tore through them all without registering and now can't even remember which ones she got into or not.

She opens it much slower than she did the others, carefully taking the paper out and only glancing at the seal, hoping that _Opportunitas_ will ring true for Santana here.

Her heart does a little tumble and she doesn't look even past the first word before closing her eyes tightly and looking up to find Marley looking at her, eyes teary, frozen with her own letter held in her hand. Santana can see it's the Steinhart one from here.

"What does it say?" Santana asks shakily, 'cause, like...

This is the moment, isn't it?

Marley glances down at the paper and up at Santana. "I made it," Marley breathes, and Santana is halfway out her seat already, but Marley places a hand on her chest to stop her. "I... But I didn't get the scholarship, Santana."

Her body feels like exploding, and not in the good way at all.

"What about Marymount?" Santana says, but only half of that is intelligible, as Santana's throat has suddenly morphed into the Sahara.

Marley shakes her head. "Did Pace say yes?" she counters instead.

"Marley," Santana says, truly panicking now. "What about Marymount?" it's gritted, and Santana knows now, of all times, is no time to lose her patience.

"What did it say, Santana?" Marley insists, and Santana breaks.

"Jesus, I got in Marley, what the fuck, what about goddamn Marymount?" Santana knows the tears are like, right there, visible already.

Marley sports a watery smile. "Scholarship and all," she says simply, and then Santana's on her.

Envelopes are pushed to the side as she lunges over and presses her lips against Marley's, hard, just keeping her face there, not moving at all, just _holding_ Marley, and this must be the best goddamn feeling in the world, she's sure.

–

"So," Santana states when they return to school on Monday, "if I don't see y'all bitches at least once a week, even if just on Skype, I'll bring Lima Heights to New York in a big way."

Quinn snorts. "Sure, _Mercedes_."

Santana rolls her eyes, levels Brittany with a glare, and Brittany just smiles and nods.

"Of course, Sanny Bear," she says with a twinkle in her eye, and Santana groans, but lets it go.

"I'm not hearing anything from that side of the table," Santana states loudly, and the rest of the glee club looks up at her.

She's looking at Finn in particular, though, and he just smiles slightly and says, "Yeah, sure," before making brief eye contact with Brittany – and God, the _longing_ from both ends in that one look is just like...

This must be the frustration Brittany felt watching her and Marley last year. Like, Santana gets it, Karma, thanks, you can stop now.

Santana makes a double take around the table, and then looks to Quinn.

"Where's your beau?"

Quinn shrugs. "I don't have a beau," she says simply.

Brittany scrunches her nose. "Did Blaine steal it?"

Santana chuckles at Brittany, before looking to Quinn again. "Since when?"

"Nationals." Quinn smiles, using that same easy tone. She looks at Santana with a raised eyebrows. "There were no regrets, but further than that..."

Santana realises everyone is kind of staring at them, and then it takes one _look_ from her for them all to break into small conversations amongst themselves, leaving Brittany and Santana to tend to Quinn.

"You okay?" Brittany asks worriedly.

Quinn laughs. "Girls," she drawls. "In two months I'm going to be moving into a dorm room in New Haven. I'm so much more than fine."

"Fine, point taken, show off," Santana huffs, though Quinn smiles at her, by now able to translate Santana's true meaning, which is, _God, I'm so proud of you, you bitch_.

Quinn props something into both their hands. Santana looks down to find a train pass of sorts in her own, an identical one in Brittany's.

"Now there aren't any excuses," Quinn states.

The emotion rising up in Santana is so fucking overwhelming that she just nods heavily and reaches up to squeeze Quinn's shoulder, not making eye contact with anybody for a few moments.

When she gets her shit under control, she finds Quinn smiling at her, all self-satisfied, and Santana just shakes her head at her jokingly. Then they turn their focus to Brittany.

"How're things with Finn, B?" Santana asks as gently as she possibly can.

Brittany shrugs and looks over at Finn, longing palpable again, and, God. Duct tape. That's the only option left here, Santana's sure.

"He called me last night," Brittany says, and Santana starts in surprise, catching the same look on Quinn's face.

"And?" Santana urges when Brittany goes silent again.

Brittany's poker face breaks, and a small smile breaks out. "He thinks we should try again, when we get to New York." Brittany is all masks right after that, though, shrugging again. "I mean, we're going to be neighbours, anyway, and that worked for Bert and Ernie."

That's it, Santana thinks. Now she _really_ won't ever be able to wipe the smile off her face.

"Bert and Ernie are roommates, B," Quinn says, though she's smiling. Santana knows she's trying to steer the conversation back to neutral ground.

"Even better," Brittany says, sly smile taking over her face.

"About fucking time," Santana grumbles.

Quinn laughs. "Who thought you'd turn out to be the most together one of us in the end, S?" she asks, joking, referring to their conversation of last year.

Santana shakes her head. "It's not me," Santana says seriously, then points to Marley, "that's all on her."

Quinn laughs. "Perhaps it is," she echoes, and for a second, they stare at a laughing Marley, the girl who seemingly changed it all.

Until Brittany, finished with her own tray of food, starts digging into Quinn and Santana's instead, and Santana just kind of laughs at her, counting in her head how many trays she'll still have here for Brittany to pick off of.

Santana reaches out for Marley on her other side on instinct, smiling when Marley doesn't even look away from her conversation when tangling their fingers together, like it's just second nature like that.

She only has a few days left until summer when, unlike her last summers, she won't be drowning in feelings or trying to repair messes she made in the past – instead, she'll merely bask in her Lima life in the last few moments she can.

So now, she decides to start that process already and silently gazes at her club and her school, simply savouring everything she has around her right at this moment.

–

The night before graduation, Santana's parents allow Santana and Marley a rare weeknight sleepover, and they spend most of it just holding each other and staring at the ceiling in silence, trying and failing to feel even remotely sleepy.

Around one in the morning, Marley hums suddenly, and Santana giggles when she realises what Marley's on to.

Then Marley starts softly singing, "Start spreading the news..." and Santana giggles even louder, but pulls Marley closer and can't stop herself from humming along anyway.

Santana only joins in when it's appropriate for her to, which comes around, "These little town blues are melting away..." which she'd always considered to be the most apt part as far as she's concerned, anyway.

Marley trails off near the end after changing the lyrics to, "If we don't make it there, we're gonna make it anywhere."

It's less singing than it is a statement, and that familiar heart-swelling occurs in Santana's chest, but she fully welcomes that shit, now.

"Definitely," she agrees.

It's quiet for a few moments until Marley shifts.

"What're you thinking about?" Marley says, head resting on Santana's chest.

"That I was totally expecting you to break into Bloom there," Santana grins, and Marley snorts.

"If I were so inclined, I'd tell you to, er, eff off," Marley says easily, and Santana pretends to be shocked.

"I think I'm having a bad influence on you," Santana says. "Are you sure you want to move to another state with me? Your window for take backs closes in five, four, three–"

Marley's hand covers her mouth and she rolls so she can cover Santana's body completely with her own. "Stop talking," Marley whispers. "What is it you told me? Just because I'm not, er, Sam–"

"Farm-fish," Santana reminds her.

"–with his promise rings, doesn't mean I'm not totally in this, either," Marley says, smiling. "Now, what's _really_ on your mind?"

"Everything," Santana shrugs. "Mostly, just, that I'm very, very lucky."

"You went through a lot to get here, San," Marley grins. "Don't give luck _all_ the credit."

"We both went through a lot," Santana amends.

She looks at Marley lovingly, watches as Marley's eyes twinkle when she strokes the back of her hand over Marley's cheek. She remembers doing this almost exactly two years ago, like a coward, while Marley slept, then thinks about how glad she is that things changed into this.

"I'm excited for what happens next," Santana admits. "I love you so much."

"Me, too," Marley whispers seriously. "On both counts."

She leans forward and kisses Santana so deeply that Santana feels the kiss right to her toes. Santana wraps her arms around Marley's back and pulls Marley as close as she can get, and then just that little bit closer.

Marley smiles into her mouth and she returns it easily, because they're _done_, everything's done and it might be the end of something big but it's the start of something so much more, and so, there's nothing to be sad about. Not anymore.

Not at all.

–

When all is said and done, the next day, there is a shitload of tears and sentimentality that makes Santana feel _so much_ that she swears the glee emotion-roller-coaster has taken a home right in her chest. Which, it probably has, with the way she went about things the past few years, but.

Right now, she wouldn't change that shit for anything.

She hugs everyone – even fucking Sam – twice, maybe three times and exchanges contact details like it's a lifeline, suddenly not so scared of having friends anymore – rather, of _losing_ that shit, and, _honestly_.

Heading out of McKinley, Santana takes Marley's hand as they walk through the hallways one last time.

Though glee club acted like it to their last breath, it's still debatable whether or not they could actually change the world just by _singing_ at it.

But, Santana considers, that fucked up roller coaster changed _her_ world, at the very least, and looking over to Marley smiling at her brightly, that was pretty much the best reason for getting on that ride to begin with.


End file.
